Rock Me Now
by CutePoison
Summary: Epilogue 5 is up What if Michael was just a hot guy with an average I.Q.? What if he were a tattooed singer in a rock band and not a tattooed genius with a plan? What if a virgin Sara met him at a club she was dragged to by her best friend. AU fi
1. Chapter 1

Author notes: (What if Michael was just a hot guy with an average I.Q.? What if he were a tattooed singer in a rock band and not a tattooed genius with a plan? What if a virgin Sara met him at a club she was dragged to by her best friend? This is a completely Alternate universe story. So be prepared for MiSa to be different, especially Mike. It is however a MiSa story.)

Sara shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat of her friend Heather's old beater car. She looked down at her neglected nails that were long over due for a manicure and concentrated on tuning out her friend's upset voice.

"I did not!" This was yelled loudly and Sara winced, as Heather continued to incessantly argue with her boyfriend whose loud voice could be heard as he audibly yelled out his response on the other end of the cell phone.

It seemed Heather and Jason were always arguing about something. And if any of their other fights were any indication, it would end with the two of them all over each other.

Sara leaned her head back and tried to fight the need to be elsewhere. She knew she should probably be at the library doing research for the paper she had to write, but instead she had let herself be talked into this.

They were on their way to a club Heather's brother Michael was playing at, well his band "Fluid Pain" was playing at anyways. Sara had never even met Heather's brother; he was only recently back from California, but her friend had insisted she had to support her brother in his endeavors and who better to keep her company than her very best friend?

Sara sighed softly as the lights from the club now came into view. She figured this was probably a mistake, or at the very least a huge waste of time. She just wasn't the clubbing type.

Sure she enjoyed rock music, but usually through her head phones while working out. But being serious about someday getting into medical school meant Sara sometimes had to remind herself she was 21 and not 61.

Well tonight's one of those times, she told herself with resolve as Heather pulled the car into the club parking lot. She just needed to relax. She was after all entitled to blow off her studies and have a good time every once in a while, right? Right. Sara pushed open the car door and still talking loudly into the phone, her friend Heather joined her on the broken concrete of the parking lot of Club Kid.

A short while later

Sara looked around for Heather, but she hadn't seen her friend since the first band left for a break, and at least 20 minutes had passed since then.

Taking the last sip of her cola, she pushed back from the table. She thought she remembered Heather saying something about going backstage to look for her brother before his set, so she headed towards the rear of the bar figuring that would be the best place to look. It sure beat sitting there alone with guys she wouldn't spit on gawking at her.

Sara knew eventually one of those guys would consume enough alcohol and get up the nerve to approach her. And she wanted to avoid that awkward situation if she could.

She smiled slightly as she made her way passed a couple kissing with reckless abandon, and shook her head. Some people had no problem with public displays of affection. Sara, being a virgin had only been in a few semi-serious relationships.

If you were to ask her why she was still a virgin at age 21 she wouldn't give you the answer most would expect. She had no religious reasons whatsoever for her chastity, in fact the only reason she was a virgin was because the right guy just didn't seem to exist for her.

Sure she had come close to taking that all important step; with three different guys in fact, but something always seemed to come along and nip it in the bud before it had a chance to blossom.

She sighed now as she thought again of the passion she had witnessed in passing. The couple was most likely in love and couldn't stand to keep their hands off of each other..

Sara was distracted by her thoughts, and when the knob in her hand opening the door in front of her turned with little resistance she entered the room to a sight she could have gone another 21 years without having witnessed.

The man in the chair's eyes instantly locked on hers and a small smile played across his devilishly handsome features. Sara took a moment to note the arousal reflected in his intense blue/gray orbs before averting her own startled eyes from the spectacle in front of her. She was about to slam the door and run back to the preferable stares of the unsavory men out in the club when he spoke.

Sara froze at the sound of his voice. She could hear the raw sexuality in his tone and found her eyes moving up from the floor to meet his gaze.

"Are you looking for someone in particular"? He had his hands resting on the arm rests, but reached out to stroke the girl's hair as she moved up and down servicing him.  
"Um, I was.. Um looking for my friend, um Heather...Heather Scofield", she stuttered, finding it to be the most difficult sentence of her life.

He smiled, his eyes glazed with pleasure, and his breath hitching slightly in his throat. Sara told herself to look away, but found her eyes riveted to his.

"You sure you don't wanna join us...ah…Sorry, I didn't get your name"?

Sara was stricken speechless for a moment at the invitation, but then found her voice.

"Um, I didn't give it, but it's Sara, actually, and no, I need to find my friend."

She was turning to leave when he spoke again.

"Sara"?

Sara turned back to him. She found her eyes landing on his long fingers intertwined with the rich brown locks of the girl in his lap.

Sara brought her eyes back up to his face quickly, feeling her cheeks redden. He grinned at her, his eyes daring.

"You should try the door on the left. Heather might be in there".

Sara mumbled her thanks, and was turning to leave again when he said.

"Oh… and Sara"?

She met his intense stare again.

"Knock okay"?

Sara felt her cheeks blaze even more as she hastily pulled the door closed behind her.

How in God's name had she just let that happen?

(Chapter End Notes:)

This is something I have been working on when my mind couldn't wrap itself around Dr. Feelgood and/or Forbidden love. Since Dr. Feelgood is about to end soon I decided to post this.


	2. Chapter 2

Sara stood outside the door the guy had indicated. Feeling a bit gun shy, she took a deep breath before knocking. She was relieved when the door opened and Heather appeared. And then she saw the hurt look on her friend's face. Heather looked like she had been crying.

Sara heard a masculine voice speaking from inside the room and then he was pushing passed Heather and bumping into Sara in his haste to leave. 

Heather reached for him, but he was too quick.

"Wait! Damn it, Jason"! She yelled at his retreating back, but he was gone.

"We had another fight Sara... Jason wants to see other people and... And I don't think I can do that, you know"? Heather said her eyes welling up again.

Sara nodded. So this fight was more serious. She was used to her friend's drama packed relationship with her boyfriend. And though she didn't know Jason well, Sara had always gotten the sense that he cared about her friend. But now she wasn't so sure.

"Maybe he will come to his senses"? Sara tried.

Heather shook her head. "I don't think so he has a date tomorrow night with some girl he met at work". 

Sara opened her mouth to say something, but wasn't really sure what she could say that would be reassuring.

"Come on, My brother's band is up in a few minutes. And I wanna get drunk", Heather said, hastily wiping at her tears.

Sara followed her friend down the hall, her eyes falling on the closed door with...She realized he hadn't given his name, and then told herself it didn't matter. Someone who would do something like that at a club was someone she was better off not knowing.

Heather led the way back to their table and plopped down. It wasn't long before a young girl, wearing loads of make-up but still looking much too young to be there, much less work in such a place, took her friend's order. 

Sara listened as Heather ordered a Long island iced tea and then placed her own order for a cola. She had never been much of a drinker, and besides someone had to be the designated driver.

Just then the lights on the stage flared to life and Sara looked up to see the four guys in the band. She knew that Heather's brother was the lead singer, but there was no one out at the front of the stage. Sara noted the look of annoyance playing across the guitarist's face, and then 'he' walked onto the stage.

Her eyes were instantly drawn to him. She felt her mouth trying to drop open and clamped it tightly shut. The guy backstage was Heather's brother?

Sara felt her cheeks redden as she sized him up. She took in his ripped up, tight in all the right places, faded jeans and open black shirt showing off an elaborate tattoo she had somehow not seen in their first encounter.

He smiled at the audience and Sara felt her body grow warm as her insides melted.

What was wrong with her? Was she insane? This guy was everything she had always tried to avoid, a musician with groupies.

Sara found herself remembering some of what Heather had told her of her slightly older brother, Michael. He was 23 and totally irresponsible for the most part. He had left for California over a year ago hoping his band would somehow 'make it'. They hadn't, and he had recently decided to come home to Chicago where he and his band had enjoyed somewhat of a following on the local club scene. According to Heather, Michael was also a bit of a slut, bringing home a different girl almost every night since moving in with her.

Sara, who had never before heard a guy referred to as a slut, had merely shaken her auburn head at this, but now she pushed her hair from her eyes and tried not to openly stare.

She had to admit he was incredibly gorgeous. 

Then he opened his mouth and the voice that issued from his lips reminded Sara of the sensual way he had spoken when the girl's head was in his lap. She felt herself getting a bit warm at the memory. She reached for her cola and wondered when the server had even set it in front of her. No matter, she was glad to have it. She took a huge gulp and relished in it's icy coolness going down her hot, dry throat.

She could see Heather bouncing in her seat, and when Heather turned to her, she met her friend's eyes and forced a smile. Heather smiled back and then jumped up. She grabbed Sara's hands and pulled her up out of her seat.

Sara didn't really feel like dancing, but she knew her friend needed some kind of distraction from her problems, so she let herself be pulled out in front of the small stage.

As she moved in time with the music she could feel his eyes on her, but she ignored it. And she told herself her pounding heart was merely reacting to the workout dancing provided; that she definitely was not 'into' a singer in a rock band, no matter how hot he was.


	3. Chapter 3

(An hour later)

The band's set was over and Sara was ready to leave, but Heather had pulled a disappearing act on her. Sara pulled out a chair ready to sit down, and wait, but then paused and scanned the bar one last time hoping to see her friend.

No such luck, Heather was nowhere in sight. Sara knew she was most likely backstage talking to her brother and his band mates. The band, Michael included had taken off immediately after finishing their last song. Sara had rushed off to use the bathroom, too many colas would do that to a girl, and when she returned Heather was MIA. She knew she had two options, sit here and wait for Heather, or go backstage looking for her.

Decision made, she pushed the chair back in and made her way towards the back of the club.

When she reached the hallway with the two doors she hesitated briefly. She was just raising her hand to knock when the door opened and she was met with those intense blue/gray eyes.

"Sara, right?" Michael smiled at her and took a drink from the beer in his hand.

Sara nodded. "Um, yeah, Sara...I'm um looking for Heather...again," she said meeting his eyes. Vowing to herself that she was not going to be intimidated by him.

His smile grew.

"Right this way," he said pulling the door wide open.

Sara followed him into the noisy room. She spotted Heather almost immediately and thanking him quickly she headed away from him and towards her friend.

"Sara!" Heather said with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Did you meet my brother?"

Sara smiled and nodded. "Yeah, you could say that we've met".

But she wasn't sure Heather was even listening. Heather took a swig of the beer she was holding.

"Well, this guy here is the back bone of the band, Jack, this is my bestest friend Sara", Heather said drunkenly.

"Oh, and he's also the guitarist"!

Jack smiled at her and stuck out his hand. Sara took his hand and smiled.

"Nice to meet you, Sara", he squeezed her hand briefly and then let it go, his eyes moving back to Heather.

Sara could see his interest in her friend; going by the way he was looking at Heather, he was crazy about her. She wondered if Heather even knew?

"Michael"! Heather screeched and grabbing Sara's hand she pulled Sara to her brother's side.

"You have to meet Sara"!

Sara was shoved close to him almost colliding with him bodily.

His free hand shot out, gripping her shoulder to stop them from falling over.

"Whoa! Heather, you really shouldn't throw your friends at me", he grinned, his eyes on Sara.

Sara stepped back uncomfortably, his fingers leaving her.

Michael stuck out his hand towards her.

"I'm Michael, by the way", he said his eyes delving into hers.

Sara looked away from him to his proffered hand and then stuck out her own letting his long fingers embrace hers.

"Hi," she said quickly, avoiding making eye contact.

He squeezed her hand gently, holding on a little too long and then let go. Sara felt his eyes on her face, but turned to Heather.

"I really need to get going, Heather, remember I have to be at the Library early tomorrow"? She lied.

Sara was figuring Heather was too far gone to remember her having mentioned what time she wanted to be at the Library.

Heather squinted at her and then laughed. "God, Sara, tomorrow's Sunday! You can't spend all of your free time studying it's not healthy! Tell her Mike...tell Sara how unhealthy excesside...excessife...'excessive' studying can be", Heather giggled.

Michael's intense eyes found Sara's. "Definitely not healthy", he winked.

Sara looked away from him."Heather, really I have to get back to my dorm".

Heather pouted. "Really, Sara? God you're such a party pooper"!

Just then a dark haired girl sidled up to Michael and slid her arm around his waist.

"Hey, baby, you still comin' home with me tonight"? She whispered loudly in his ear making sure all could here her sweet nothings.

He smiled at her and nodded. She pulled his mouth down on hers and kissed him hotly, before backing off.  
"I need to talk to Jenny and then I'm ready to go", she said sexily.

The girl was drop dead gorgeous with raven hair and the greenest, heavily made up eyes Sara had ever seen. She shot Sara a cold look before turning on her heels and walking off, presumably in search of 'Jenny'.

Sara watched her for a moment and then turned back to Heather. She gave her friend a pleading look.

"Oh, fine! But I was just starting to have fun"!

Heather fished her keys out of her pocket and Sara quickly snatched them from her fingers.

"I'll drive", she said hooking her arm threw her friend's, and turning her in the direction of the door.

"Hey, Sara"? Michael's voice filled her ears.

Sara turned to look at him.

"It was nice meeting you...again", he grinned.

Sara forced a smile. "Yeah, you too", she said and turned back around.

Sara led Heather through the bar and out the door. They had barely made it outside the club doors when her friend got sick.

She held Heather's hair back until she could heave no more and then led her drunken friend to the car.

She had only driven for a few minutes when the sound of sirens filled the air. She pulled to the side of the road and watched as three fire trucks sped passed and took a left turn up ahead of them.

Sara looked to her friend and sighed. How was she going to get Heather inside her apartment? She was out cold. Sara was approaching the turn the three fire trucks had taken when she noticed the black smoke rising into the sky.

She felt a moment of sympathy for those losing their homes and said a quick prayer that all had escaped unharmed. And then it occurred to her where the smoke must be coming from.

She took the turn and drove ahead a few blocks. She was almost convinced she had to be right, when she could drive no further. There was a police barricade up ahead.  
Sara pulled over and a police officer approached her car.

"Hello, Officer...um, I was wondering what's going on"... Sara explained.

"You see I live in Bennington house and the smoke looks like it could be coming from my dorm"

The police officer nodded. "The fire is located in that area, but I can't give you any specifics, Miss. I will tell you this, either way you won't be able to return to your dorm tonight", he said with authority. "It's just not safe".

Sara thanked him quickly her mind whirling.

Was her dorm on fire? Now what was she going to do? Just when she thought this night couldn't get any worse!

She turned the car around, made her way back to the main road, and took a right headed for Heather's. Sara was sure her friend would have no problem with her crashing on her sofa for the night. But then what?


	4. Chapter 4

Sara parked the car in front of Heather's apartment and then looked at her comatose friend. How was she supposed to get her inside like this? It was probably a lost cause, but she knew she at least had to try.

Sara got out of the car and went around to the passenger's side of the car. She opened the door, and thankful she had had the foresight to buckle her friend in she watched as the seatbelt held Heather upright instead of sending her crashing to the cement in front of her.

She pushed Heather back in the seat and slapped at her face lightly hoping to rouse her. No such luck. Sara looked to the cup holder. There was a half full bottle of water nestled there. Perfect.

She reached across Heather and grabbed it up, and began unscrewing the cap. Heather might wake up wanting to kill her for this, but at least she would be awake. Without over thinking it Sara threw the water directly in Heather's face.

"Wha…what are doing…Why'd you do that?" 

Heather was pushing the wet hair off of her face and squinting up at her through a drunken haze.

"Because we're at your apartment and it was better than letting you sleep it off in the car," Sara explained a bit impatiently.

Heather looked around her, taking in her surroundings.

"Oh, okay…But why'd you have to wet me?"

Sara looked at her friend in exasperation.

"Come on Heather, let's just get you to bed, okay?"

Heather blinked up at her not answering. Sara sighed and reached in to haul Heather out.

Heather stumbled and a giggle burst out.

"This is fun isn't it?"

Sara had an arm around her friend but managed to give her a sideways look. 

"It's a blast Heather. Remind me to say yes the next time you ask me to go to a club with you."

Heather giggled again; it seemed Sara's annoyance was hilarious to her. And then they were at her door, where Sara leaned her up against the wall and worked the key into the lock. She got Heather to her room and then it occurred to her she hadn't mentioned the need to crash there for the night.

"Um, is it okay if I crash here tonight? I could sleep on the sofa?"

Heather was barely conscious.

"Take Mike's room, he's going home with Veronica, remember?"

The image of the dark haired girl sprang to mind.

"I think I would rather just sleep on the sofa," she said turning to leave. 

"Okay, but Mike spilled a beer on it yesterday and it's still wet."

Sara froze at her friend's slightly slurred words.

"There are fresh sheets in the hall closet."

Sara sighed and shutting the door behind her, she made her way to the hall closet. She didn't like the idea of sleeping in someone else's bed. But Heather was right. She had heard the conversation herself. Michael was going home with the dark haired beauty from the club. 

Sheets in hand she made her way to the only other door she knew not to be the bathroom. She pushed the door open and to her surprise it was very neat. She went to the bed and stripped off the comforter and sheets, laying them aside.

When she had successfully changed the sheets she made her way into the bathroom to get ready for bed. She washed her face and then brushed her teeth with toothpaste on her finger, rinsing her mouth quickly. That done she made her way back to Michael's room and slid out of her jeans. 

She folded them neatly and put them on the chair by the bed before climbing under the blankets.

She had left the bedside light on and now reached to turn it off. She froze as the bracelet caught her eye. It was a black leather band with a snap button closure. She picked it up and slipped it on. It was too big for her and slid on easily. She looked at it against her pale skin and let her mind wander over the night's events. She had never met anyone like Heather's brother before. Scratch that. She had never met anyone like Heather's brother that she had been even remotely interested in.

Was she interested in him? She slipped the bracelet off and stuck it back in place, her hand moving on to the light. And as the room fell dark she told herself not to be silly. She was not interested in Michael Scofield. Not only wasn't he her type, but he didn't fit in with the plans she had for herself at all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Sara felt it before she even knew what it was. The tiny movement of warm fingers, the small amount of sweat beneath each digit and that of a larger palm indicating to her sleep fogged mind that the hand had been there for some time before awakening her.

And then she was fully awake her eyes snapping open. She barely stopped herself from crying out and jerking away as her eyes fell on his face. Her breath caught in her throat. He was only inches from her, his face tucked against the pillow; his arm draped across her where his fingers had somehow managed to crawl down the back of her panties. He looked so innocent in sleep despite what his wandering hand might imply.

When she could breathe again she reached gingerly and pulled his hand from her bottom and tucked it beside him. She breathed a sigh of relief she hadn't awakened him and was just about to try easing out of the bed when his long lashes fluttered open to reveal a sleepy steel blue gaze.

"Hey," he said smiling and moving slowly he reached for her.

Sara put up her hands to ward him off, her fingers coming up against an inked barrier.

"Whoa, I don't think so," she managed shakily. 

His smile vanished to be replaced with confusion as he stared at her. Sara watched as recognition dawned in his sleepy eyes.

"Sara, right?" His voice was deep with sleep and she fought the urge to find it sexy by replacing it with anger.

What was he doing here? Wasn't he supposed to go home with what's her face, the raven haired makeup model?

"Um, yeah, I'm, um, Sara. But what are you doing here?"

Michael's eyes widened at her words.

"You're in my bed and you're asking me what I'm doing here? Well, there are two possibilities, Sara. One, you came home with me and we had a great time, or two... I'm not sure what two would be. So if you wanna help me out, that'd be great, 'cause I'm sure it wasn't option one, I think I'd remember that," his words sailed smoothly from a smile reminiscent of the night before, teasing her.

And then he looked down where her hands were still pressed against his chest. Sara pulled them back and slid away from him.

"Um, I'm sorry, I mean. I thought you wouldn't be home last night. You said you were going home with someone and I think my dorm burned down, so I needed a place to crash. Your sister…Heather, said I could use your bed, because you spilled beer on the sofa… And I'm probably giving you way more information than I need to," she apologized.

"Well, I came home and got into bed. I didn't know it was already taken, but then again I was kinda drunk."

He sounded sincere despite his small smile, but Sara wasn't so sure.

At her look of disbelief, "Look, I'd offer to leave, but I think it would only make the situation more awkward." He lifted up the blankets and looked passed his chest to indicate he was naked beneath.

Sara clutched the blankets closer, building a barrier between them. 

"I'll just…if you close your eyes...and um, turn around…I'll just go."

Michael's smile grew bigger and his eyes regarded her with unveiled amusement.

"Close my eyes 'and' turn around? Sounds like you don't trust me much, Sara." 

Sara was not amused by his enjoyment of the situation.

"I don't 'know you' much, is more like it," she said a bit huffily, her embarrassment quickly being replaced by anger.

She had no intention of stepping outside the blankets in just her t-shirt and underwear, besides how did she know he wouldn't peek?

She stared him down.

"Okay, turning around," he said, and he did just that.

Sara was staring at his back where the blankets had slipped lower showing where his tattoo ended and unmarked flesh began.

"Closing my eyes now," he said, the amusement in his voice breaking her out of her locked in stare.

Sara jumped from the bed and grabbed her jeans, shoving her legs into them quickly. When she had them fastened she made her way to the door, where she quietly slipped out and made her way to the bathroom. 

When she was behind its locked door she let out the breath she had been holding. What was it about Michael that made her feel so uneasy? Like maybe she could lose control where he was concerned? Sara didn't think she liked the feeling, not one little bit. 

(Chapter End Notes:)

I should have a chapter up in Forbidden Love Wednesday or Thursday for those of you who read both of my stories.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Chapter Notes:

(Own nothing, profit from nothing. that is copyrighted)

After cleaning up and brewing a quick pot of coffee, Sara had left the apartment, travel mug in hand.

She knew for a fact Heather wouldn't be up for hours so borrowing her car shouldn't pose a problem.

She had held her breath hoping her suspicions were wrong practically the whole ride to her dorm, and when she found nothing on the radio reporting the location of last night's fire she had grown hopeful. But now as she pulled up to the curb across the street from the burned out building that used to be her home, she felt her hopes fall.

A good portion of the building was a taped off ruins. And the rest was probably so water logged and smoke damaged it would be uninhabitable for weeks or maybe months to come.

She hoped no one had been hurt, that would be the worst. This was merely an inconvenience. A pain in the ass inconvenience, but at least she hadn't been home when the fire started.

As she sat and stared her mind whirled through the possibilities. She could hit her father up for enough money to get a small apartment, but she had vowed she would do this on her own if possible. Her father had very little money and Sara knew any cash he loaned her would hurt him greatly.

That was why getting a scholarship had been so important to her. Her scholarship had included her books, and room and board at Bennington house. The money she had saved from her after school jobs all through high school had come in handy for odds and ends, but she really didn't need much other than food and personal items.

She tried to remember her bank account's standing and went blank. Did she have enough left for first and last month's rent on a dive someplace within walking distance of the university campus? It was doubtful.

She sighed and let her head rest against the coolness of the steering wheel. She could stay at Heather's for a few more days while she figured things out, but soon Heather would say what everyone said when a homeless friend had worn out their welcome, "get out," and then where would she go?

She was about to start the car and head back to Heather's when a fist landed on the window startling her. She cranked down the window and attempted to return her friend's smile.

"Hey, Sara," Paul said in his usual greeting.

"Hey, Paul," she said in return.

Sara liked Paul, but only as a friend. He was a nice enough guy, but she had been avoiding him as of late, in the hopes of getting her message across that she wasn't interested in him romantically.

Everything had been fine between them until the day the two of them had been hanging out beneath one of the huge maple trees on campus.

The setting had been perfect, a beautiful fall day with a light breeze. They had been joking and laughing, having a great time comparing professors, but then he had tried to kiss her. And now there was just this awkwardness whenever she was around him.

He turned now and looked over his shoulder at the charred mess behind him.

"Shame about your dorm. You find a place to stay yet?"

Sara shook her head.

"Right now I'm crashing at Heather's, until I can figure something else out."

Paul smiled and nodded.

"That's great…I mean that you have Heather to fall back on. But you know my apartment has an extra bedroom…"

Sara shook her head again.

"I don't think so, Paul, I mean I appreciate the offer, but I don't think it would be a good idea."

Paul nodded. "Well, if you change your mind just let me know. The invitation stands; indefinitely."

Sara smiled her thanks and began cranking the window back up as he backed away from the car.

As she threw the car into gear, she told herself that wouldn't happen. She would live at the Y, before taking up residence at Paul's place.

She wouldn't let herself be drawn into a relationship out of convenience.

She was headed back to Heather's when she saw the bagel shop and decided to buy breakfast for everyone as a thank you for letting her stay there the previous night.

She pulled in and ten minutes later was back behind the wheel with the smell of freshly baked bagels tempting her nostrils.

Once back at Heather's she hesitated at the door. She had the keys, but should she knock?

She glanced at her watch; it was almost 10:00. She shoved the key in the lock figuring she would risk being rude to avoid waking her sleeping friend.

She could hear guitar music as soon as the door was unlocked, and swung open to the sight of a shirtless Michael, his long fingers on the strings coaxing a beautiful song from the instrument.

He had yet to notice her presence and as she stood frozen he began to sing:

"Behind your eyes I see a vision;  
you're smile I see a friend.  
A place that I can come home to  
when tired at the day's long end.  
And when you look at me you see…  
what I tried so hard to hide,  
but I always knew that with you I'd fail.  
'Cause you can see right through me,  
through all that I keep veiled."

Sara wasn't sure if he had heard her or what, she was unaware of any sound she might have made, but when he looked up his eyes fell on hers and she saw something she would have thought she would never see. He looked embarrassed, as if caught doing something he shouldn't be doing.

"That was beautiful," her words were soft in the now silent room.

"Yeah, I was just messin' around. So what's in the bag?" He said his eyes moving to it.

"Um, bagels and cream cheese. I thought the least I could do was buy breakfast to thank you guys for letting me crash here last night."

Michael grinned with that teasing twinkle coming into his eyes, and Sara told herself she must have been wrong about him seeming embarrassed a minute before.

His next words proved that without a doubt.

"Well, you can share my bed anytime… And I can think of a few other ways you could thank me…but bagels work."

Sara blinked at his cockiness and then without saying anything she turned and headed for the kitchen.

She was pulling the bagels out of the bag and placing them on a plate when he joined her in the small kitchen. He opened a drawer and pulled out a knife and began slicing the bagels.

They had been working side by side in silence for a few minutes before he spoke.

"Um, listen I was just joking before. I mean about you thanking me. I must have sounded like a real ass hole."

Sara glanced at him.

"Yeah, you did actually. Here," she said handing him the tub of cream cheese.

He took it and their fingers brushed lightly sending a shiver through her that was hard to ignore.

"I am an ass hole, sometimes. I mean I have kind of a bad track record where women are concerned, you know?"

Sara didn't say anything. What was this anyways? Was he apologizing for hitting on her? And if so, what was he hoping to gain by it?

Sara had the feeling he was about to say more when a yawning Heather walked into the kitchen.

"Ugh, food! Please say you brought coffee too!"

Sara shook her head, but moved to make a fresh pot.

"But I was just about to make some."

She felt eyes on her and wondered if it was Michael. Sara had a feeling it was, but wasn't sure why.

"So I thought you had to be at the library so early," Heather said casually, sticking a finger in the cream cheese and bringing it to her mouth.

Sara looked at her friend in surprise. She was surprised Heather remembered anything from the night before.

Figuring it was as good a time as any, Sara broke the bad news about her dorm. When she was finished Heather's next words filled her with relief as well as trepidation.

"You can stay here as long as you like. I mean there's no rush. It'll be fun having a new roomie, right Mike?"

Michael grinned. "Oh, yeah, the more the merrier is what I always say."

Sara looked down at her bagel. Yeah, the more the merrier, she just bet that was a motto he used where just about everything was concerned.

Sara looked up and smiled at her friend.

"It shouldn't be too long before I figure something out, but thanks. I appreciate it."

She moved to let her smile include Michael this time. His eyes met hers and she looked away uncomfortably.

She knew she would have to figure something out soon. She just didn't feel comfortable with the thought of living in the same space as Michael.


	6. Chapter 6

(Author's Chapter Notes:

Don't own it, don't profit from it.)

After spending a good part of the afternoon, and late into the evening at the library working on a paper for one of her classes, Sara didn't expect to come home to the theatrics that was her best friend Heather.

She was barely through the door in fact, when her friend rushed out of her room.

"Sara, thank God you're home! I thought I was going to go crazy!"

"Heather what's going on," Sara replied tiredly.

She had been staring at tiny print all day and her eyes ached. She really just wanted to eat something and go to sleep.

She looked at the now dry sofa and sighed. But she knew she was at the mercy of her two new roommates. If they were up and about, so was she.

"You have to say yes, Sara, please?"

Sara just looked at her.

"Say yes to what, Heather?"

Heather grabbed her hands.

"Please go to the club with me tonight? I beg you as a friend whose ass hole of a boyfriend is out with some skank from work!"

Sara sighed. What with all of the turmoil in her own life, Sara had completely forgotten about Heather's problems with Jason. If she had remembered she might have foreseen this recruitment coming.

"Heather, I have an early class tomorrow morning, you know that."

Heather gave her a beseeching puppy dog look.

"Please, Sara! I can't just sit around the apartment, I'll go crazy. I need to do something, or someone!"

Sara laughed at first, but then realizing Heather was dead serious, "You're serious aren't you?"

Heather shrugged. "I dunno, but I'm going out, and if you don't wanna come, fine. I just thought as my best friend you would understand that I can't be alone tonight."

Sara let out her breath resignedly.

"Fine…Just let me take a shower first, okay?"

Heather jumped up and down excitedly.

"You will so not be sorry, Sara! We'll have so much fun, I promise!"

Sara just shook her head and headed for Heather's room.

She had gone shopping earlier in the day to buy some new clothes and personal items which she had stored in Heather's room. She grabbed up a new pair of jeans and a shirt and some shower items and then headed for the bathroom. She had a feeling this was going to be a long night.

The shower was the best part of her day she realized as the hot water flowed over her soothing the tired muscles of her shoulders. She had sat stooped over reference books for way too long.

Sara took her time, but the shower ended and sighing softly she climbed from the stall and dried off. She quickly weighted the options of dressing in the bathroom and decided it was probably a good idea, the thought of running into Michael while wearing only a towel was probably making her more cautious than was necessary. She was pretty sure he wasn't even home.

But it was better to be safe than sorry. She dressed quickly and left the bathroom, her wet hair hanging down her back. She was on her way to Heather's room, but stopped at the sound of her friend's voice. She was on the phone and Sara would have bet her scholarship Heather was talking to Jason.

Trying to avoid eavesdropping Sara made her way to the balcony and stepped outside. There were a few chairs out there and she made herself comfortable in one of them to put on her socks.

She really hoped Heather and Jason could work this thing out. She knew her friend was in love with the guy, or at least Heather thought she was, and that was pretty much the same thing when someone broke your heart. Sara, who had never felt like that about anyone could only imagine.

She leaned back and looked out at the night. The stars were bright and she felt a calm come over her for the first time that day. She closed her eyes and she must have dozed off because the next thing she knew Heather was nudging her.

"Sara, wake up!"

She sighed and opened her eyes. "I'm awake."

Heather reached and ran her fingers through Sara's still damp hair.

"You should use my blow dryer; you'll catch pneumonia out here like this."

Sara nodded. She followed Heather in and shut the door behind her.

XXXXX

(Later)

Sara let her eyes wander around the club. It was much more crowded than she would have thought for a Sunday night. But so far the night had been far from the fun time Heather had promised. So far she had pretty much just sat and watched Heather drink and hit on guys.

Sara looked over at her friend now and then looked away. Heather had been hanging on some guy for the last half hour and it was pretty embarrassing.

She knew Heather was just trying to forget about Jason, but there had to be a better way than getting drunk and throwing yourself at a complete stranger.

Sara closed her eyes and leaned back wishing she were back in her comfortable dorm room. But the rumor was it would be quite some time before that could happen.

Her thoughts were drifting to the paper she had just finished that evening when she felt his fingers brushing the hair back from her face. She jumped.

Her first thought was that one of the creeps in the club was getting too brave, her second thought wasn't much better. She looked up to see a smiling Michael. She fought her irritation at him for thinking he could do something like that and then smile at her like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be touching her.

"Hey, sleepy head."

She sat up straighter and looked up at him.

"Um, hi."

And then she couldn't help herself, "Do you always sneak up on people, or am I just special?"

She knew she was making too big of a deal out of the whole thing, but told herself it had nothing to do with the fact that his touch had sent shivers through her body.

"Well there's no doubt in my mind that your special, but then I never could resist a redhead," he teased.

Was he completely thick? Or was his ego just so big her sarcasm had bounced right off?

She was about to reply with just such a question when Heather bounced over and hugged Michael.

"Mikey! I am so glad you showed up! Oh, I love this song, it is so hot! We should all dance! Come on Sara!"

Heather pulled Sara up and despite her protestations she let herself be herded, as Heather led her and Michael out to the dance floor.

Sara took a deep breath and told herself to just go with it. So far Michael was keeping his distance and that was good. She let herself relax a little, telling herself this wasn't so bad. She had always liked to dance and the music was good.

She looked at Heather and matched her movements. But Sara knew that even drunk, her friend was the superior dancer. Sara spun around. She was looking down and didn't see how close he was until they were colliding.

She felt his arms go around her and then she was looking into his eyes. She felt the floor drop out from under her at his nearness. And then she pulled away and forced herself to continue dancing.

But suddenly Heather was gone. She looked around for her friend and saw her dancing with a guy she had never seen before. And then it hit Sara. She was alone with Michael on the dance floor. She told herself to just not look at him, but the way he moved drew her eyes. Like his sister, he was an excellent dancer and his body melded with the beat of the song. The room grew hotter as she watched him and she finally forced her eyes away, her cheeks flaring.

When the music ended she felt relief course through her and turned to head back to the table. A new song had started, a much slower one, and his hand on her arm was so shocking it took a moment for her to realize what was happening. She was in his arms before she knew it, her breath leaving her.

She felt herself stiffen, and she knew her discomfort had to be obvious, but if it was, he chose to ignore it.

He moved closer until they were almost touching and she could feel the heat of his body; the heat of his eyes on her face. Her heart was pounding so hard and all of a sudden she was more than thirsty, she was parched. Still all she could think of was him. He was too close. She had never done anything like this before; dance so close with someone she barely knew.

She told herself to pull away, to head back to the table, but she couldn't. His hands were at her waist and she could feel the heat of his fingers searing into her bare skin as her shirt moved exposing her midriff.

Sara was finding it more and more difficult to deny her attraction to him. But how could she be attracted to someone like him? He was so full of himself; so cocky!

She had been avoiding his eyes, but now she met them, his gaze intense. She knew it was a mistake as soon as she did it. His eyes moved to her mouth and then he was moving closer, his mouth coming towards hers.

Oh, God. He was going to kiss her! She felt herself panic. She couldn't let this happen. She shoved him away and pushed through the other dancers to get away from him.

She made her way off the dance floor and towards the ladies room, and slipped inside quickly. She was out of breath from her mad dash. This was crazy. She had almost let him kiss her! What had she been thinking? She had to live with this man! She went to the sink and splashed her flushed cheeks with cold water. And then drying her face quickly she pushed her slightly damp hair up from her face. It was so hot. God, why was it so hot?

She leaned against the door and took a deep breath. She told herself she would just go back out there and pretend nothing had happened.

Simple enough in theory, but she knew it was far from simple. She was attracted to Michael; she could no longer deny that.

But she was not like those other girls; she would not be like one of his groupies. She would just keep her distance and this; whatever it was she was feeling would go away. Wouldn't it? After all she did have willpower; she could resist him. Couldn't she?

XXXXX

Sara made her way back to the table and sat down. She let her eyes roam over the dancers and told herself she was looking for Heather, not Michael. And she was looking for her friend, but she would be lying to herself if she didn't admit she was looking for Michael too.

She saw Heather dancing with some guy and let her eyes move along. She was just about to give up when she saw him. He was dancing with the dark haired girl from last night; Veronica.

Sara watched as they moved seductively against each other, the girl's hands caressing him, her fingers moving along his hips and up his chest. And then Veronica turned and pressed her bottom against him, her dark hair shining in the overhead lights as she smiled back at him, grinding sexily.

Sara looked away. She felt slightly sick at the display. She told herself this really was a good thing. As long as he kept acting like a slut she would have no problem sticking to her resolve. Veronica could have him as far as she was concerned. Sara knew she didn't have time for a relationship and she certainly wasn't going to waste her time on a guy who just wanted to get into her pants. She knew exactly what she was to him; she was merely a conquest.

Guys like him slept around. They wanted nothing but uncomplicated sex. And while Sara wasn't holding onto her virginity with a death grip, she still wanted her first time to be special; with someone special.

She had been staring at her short nails lost in thought, but looked up as Heather came back to the table.

She smiled at her now blasted friend and tried to push the images of Michael and Veronica out of her head.

But Sara knew that it wasn't going to be an easy thing to do when the music ended, and they slid into the empty seats across from her and Heather.

XXXXX

Drinks were ordered and Sara couldn't wait for the server to return with them. She thought maybe if Veronica had something to hold onto her hands wouldn't be so apt to travel up Michael's arm every time she spoke in his ear.

The music was loud and that was the only good thing about the situation as far as Sara was concerned. At least she wasn't expected to make conversation.

She felt Michael's eyes on her and looked up meeting them. She gave him what she hoped was a neutral look and glanced away. a few moments later she saw Veronica whisper something to him and he shook his head. Veronica frowned and leaned her body into his whispering some more. And then Heather shouted something about getting out of there and going to get something to eat.

Sara leaping at the opportunity to leave, shouted back that she was starving even though this was hardly the truth. She jumped up from the table in her eagerness to leave.

Heather who was already standing turned to Michael.

"Are you coming, Mike?"

What are you doing, Heather? Sara wanted to scream, but kept the question to herself. But of course her friend had no idea how much she wanted, no needed to be away from them.

If he were coming, Veronica would most likey join them as well, wouldn't she? And then it would just be more of the same except no loud music to avoid conversation.

Sara was more than a little surprised when a few seconds later Michael leaned in and said something to Veronica, and then stood up.

Veronica's mouth was hanging open. It seemed Sara wasn't the only one surprised.

And as the three of them left a now fuming Veronica alone at the table, Sara had to wonder what he was doing.

After all Veronica seemed like a sure thing.


	7. Chapter 7

The diner was almost empty when the three of them slid into the cracked leather booth. Michael took the seat directly across from her, leaving Heather to lean none too soberly against her on their side.

Sara grabbed a menu immediately and stuck it in front of her nose. She was hoping to avoid looking at him. He was splayed out in the middle of the booth, his long arms along the back, black shirt open, wearing a lazy grin as if he owned the place. And maybe he did, because when the waitress showed up her attention focused on him immediately.

"Hey, Mike, what can I get for Ya?"

Sara peeked out from behind her menu to take in the cute girl smiling at Michael. The waitress was blond and leggy and the way she was sticking out her chest, not to mention calling him by name, made it obvious she either knew Michael well, or was dying to get to know him better.

To avoid staring, Sara ducked back behind her menu and let her eyes scan the text in the menu. As her eyes fell on the burger and fries plate she realized she really was starving. She listened as Michael placed his order and then put down the menu.

Heather's nose was still buried in her menu, so Sara quickly told the waitress what she wanted, and then sorry to have to give up her makeshift barricade from his eyes, she placed the menu back behind the condiments where she had found it.

She then looked down at her nails pretending a fascination at the tiny tear in her cuticle as Heather ordered her food.

The waitress jotted something on her small pad and started to walk away, but then thinking better of it, she leaned in whispering something to Michael.

Sara's eyes went up and she found them glued to the two of them. As Michael listened his eyes met Sara's catching her. He smiled and Sara pulled her eyes to the water glass in front of her.

With the waitress finally gone they were thrown into silence, the only sound that of the man a few tables over from them and the occasional clanking sound from the kitchen. But the silence didn't last long.

"So, what's with you and Veronica, Michael?" Heather's words were a little slurred, but the smile on her face was one of sisterly amusement.

"I mean she's been after you since you got back hasn't she?"

Michael shrugged and bringing his arms from the back of the seat he leaned forward.

"Maybe I'm just not interested this time."

His words were directed at his sister, but his eyes were on Sara.

"Well you're probably better off after the psycho way she acted before you left for LA."

Heather looked at Sara. "Michael and Veronica had a thing. I might have mentioned it before, don't remember…" Heather's eyes lost focus and then she was shaking her head to clear it. "What were we talking about?"

Sara knew Heather was zoning out, going to that great drunken place again.

Sara felt Michael's eyes on her. So that was why he had left with them, because he didn't want to get involved with a psycho ex-girl friend?

Sara felt stupid for half thinking he had left because of her. She should have known better.

She picked up her water glass and took a tiny sip wishing he would stop it with the intense stares already! He was making her uncomfortable.

She set the glass down and forced herself to meet his eyes, but his gaze didn't fall away as she had hoped. Instead he held her eyes in some kind of sexual stare down. She felt her cheeks redden, the warmth in her cheeks spreading down her body to rest between her thighs.

She made herself look away leaving him victorious in his little game.

She wanted another sip of water, anything to quench the fire, but she was afraid of the tremble in her hands giving away just how much he had affected her.

And then the waitress arrived with their food and Sara was grateful to have him focusing on someone else. Soon the waitress began to flirt with Michael again, and Sara dug into her fries with a fake gusto she had never felt for the deep fried dish.

When the waitress was gone again and the three of them were alone with their food Heather once again took up her duty of sisterly teasing.

"So how do we know, Sherry, I think it was?" She pointed brazenly at the waitress who was talking to the man a few tables over.

"I don't really know her. Some of us come here after sets every now and then."

Heather grinned. "Well she sure is into you, wouldn't you say, Sara?" Sara looked up from her food. "Um, I wouldn't know, Heather." Sara replied avoiding Michael's eyes.

(Later)

Being that she was night blind, Sara hated driving after dark. But the alternative; letting an obviously drunk Heather, or Michael who was questionably inebriated drive home forced her to be the designated driver. She knew she had made the right decision when the sound of Heather's light snoring drifted from the backseat. Michael looked behind him at his sister's sleeping form.

"She always snores when she's drunk." This was said as he reached and flipped on the radio filling the car with sound to drown her out.

Sara's only response was a small nod while keeping her posture rigid behind the wheel. She had decided it was best to ignore the close proximity of Michael setting in the passenger seat next to her and instead concentrate on the dark road in front of her.

After a few minutes with no conversation Michael leaned his head back against the seat closing his eyes. The song playing on the radio was one Sara had heard before, but couldn't put a name to.

After a few minutes she glanced at Michael, the moonlight shining through the window casting shadows across his stubble covered face. She thought that like his sister, he had probably fallen asleep. She was stopped at a light and let her eyes travel over him unbidden. Sara let her eyes leave his face and move down his body pausing at the slice of skin where his shirt had ridden up.She knew she was openly staring, but she couldn't help it, the sexy little trail of hair leading down from his belly button trapping her eyes.

She took a deep breath and let it out, her eyes moving back up to see that the light had turned green. She moved through the intersection and vowed she would keep her eyes to herself the remainder of the trip.

Sara felt herself relaxing a little, and was pretty much at ease when she pulled into the parking area and shut off the engine.

She unbuckled her seat belt and turned to Michael intending to rouse him from sleep. But he was already awake his eyes on her.

"If you get the door, I'll get my sister," his deep voice filled the quiet car.

Heather had pretty much stopped snoring leaving them in total silence.

"Um, okay."

Sara swung open the car door and headed for the door to their apartment. She pushed open the door and watched as Michael, with Heather swung over his shoulder made his way up the walk.

He moved passed her and into the lighted entryway and then she saw him disappear into the apartment.

Sara shut the door and followed him in. She was about to plop down on the sofa, but remembered her things stowed in Heather's room.

She made her way to the door and froze at the tender scene she was witnessing. She watched quietly as Michael took his sister's shoes off and tucked her in. And then he gently moved the hair back from her face and kissed her on the forehead.

"Sleep tight, Heather bear." These words fell tenderly from his lips and Sara ducked back around the corner not wanting him to see her.

She had a feeling he would get that same look on his face, like the day she had walked in on him playing his guitar; the look she had pretty much convinced herself she had imagined.

Sara ducked into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face .

And then figuring the coast was clear she made her way quietly into Heather's room to get her stuff.


	8. Chapter 8

After a hectic week of classes followed by long evenings spent hunched over her books at the library, Friday rolling around meant Sara could finally take a breather and relax.

Of course she still had a paper to finish, but it was almost 9:00pm and she had decided enough was enough when her eyes kept losing focus on the small print of her text books.

But her visions of Ben and Jerry and a quiet night in front of the television were far from what awaited her as she stuck the key in and pushed open the door to the apartment.

The room was filled with people she didn't know; the air heavy with cigarette smoke and the cloying aroma of spilt beer. She moved forward and said a silent prayer that said spilt beer was anywhere but on the sofa that was to be her bed that night; that is if the night ever ended.

She sighed and looked passed the stoned girl with a bong to her mouth, thinking this night could indeed be endless.

Despite the fact that her key had worked she was about to consider the possibility that she had somehow stumbled into the wrong apartment as she moved through the room, and still recognized no one. And then she saw Heather standing next to a gorgeous guy wearing distressed brown leather pants and little else. 

The guy was at least 6'2 and muscular, his chest and tattooed arms tanned a deep bronze. He had messy/spiky brown hair lighter than Michael's and facial hair that was almost, but not quite a beard. As she approached her friend the drum sticks in his hand reminded Sara where she had seen him before. He was the drummer in Michael's band Fluid Pain.

"Hey, Sara, you're home. I was wondering if you had decided to crash at the library tonight!" Heather was smiling, but her eyes looked a little heavy like she had been hitting the bong that was making its way around the room.

"Um, yeah, that might have been a good idea," Sara mumbled as she continued to look around the room.

She felt the guy's eyes on her and looked up to see his smile.

"I heard that. I take it you're not much into the party scene?" His blue eyes were twinkling.

Sara shook her head. "No I'm afraid, not much."

The guy held out his hand.

"I'm Lincoln, by the way. And unless Heather is more stoned than I think she is, you're Sara." He teased her friend.

"I am not stoned!" Heather insisted smiling.

"I am merely having a good time, Linc."

Lincoln rolled his eyes and winked at Sara.

"Sure you are. That's why you asked me what time it was 3 times in the last 10 minutes. Oh, and lets not even mention the beer you spilled all over my shirt." He said indicating his bare chest.

Sara couldn't help retuning his smile, it was infectious. She found herself thinking he seemed like a nice enough guy; despite the leather pants. She had to admit that even though the pants were a bit retro 80's hair band the guy was working them.

She felt her cheeks flush as her eyes moved down to where the top button was undone, and she couldn't help noticing how they rode low on his hips.

She pulled her eyes up quickly and was relieved to see he hadn't noticed her checking him out. And then she realized she hadn't completely gotten away with her little peep show. Heather was looking at her knowingly.

"Um, I think I see Jack over there. Take care of Sara for me Linc!" She trilled over her shoulder, and she took off leaving them alone.

Sara watched her leave and then turned to find Linc smiling at her.

"So, you wanna beer or something?"

Sara just smiled and nodded, wondering silently how long it would take for someone to find Heather's body after she killed her.

XXXX

Sara finished off her second beer, and then seeing her chance to escape she made her way towards the kitchen. She had been listening to a conversation about Zildjian cymbals for the last ten minutes and was so bored she thought she might die. Besides she needed another beer, didn't she?

She made her way, tipsy as she was without stumbling into anyone and pushed open the kitchen door. She hadn't seen Michael all night, but that was about to change. She felt the door whoosh shut behind her and there he was rooting around in the refrigerator for presumably a beer for himself. He turned around beer in hand, and froze when he saw her, a smile flirting across his lips. 

"Anymore of those in there?" she asked, her back pressed against the door.

She needed something to lean against to keep the room from spinning. She was such a light weight where alcohol was concerned it was almost embarrassing.

"This is the last one," he said twisting off the cap. "But I tell you what; I'll share it with you."

Sara stepped towards him and took the proffered beer from his hand, their fingers barely touching in the exchange. She took a small sip into her mouth and swallowed it.

"I don't think I've ever seen you drink."

It wasn't a question, but she responded anyways. "It's been a long week."

She took another bigger gulp and handed it back to him.

He took a deep gulp and then set it aside and moved closer to her. Sara stepped back; her body almost backed against the door again.

"I promise you Sara, I don't bite," he said moving closer still, his eyes boring into hers hotly, a small smile on his face.

Sara felt the wood of the door against her shoulders. "I'm not afraid of you, Michael" she lied. "I'm just not interested, that's all."

Michael laughed not breaking eye contact. "You're not interested. I see. What if I were to say I don't believe you Sara. What if I were to say that I think you're into me?"

It was Sara's turn to laugh. "I am so not into you, trust me, Michael."

She was turning to open the door behind her when he moved and put a hand on each side of her head only inches from her red hair, pressing his palms flat against the wood behind her.

"Prove it," his words spoken so close, blew hot against her face.

"I don't have to prove anything to you. Besides how does one prove they're not into someone?"

She knew all he would have to do is place a hand against her heart and feel it pounding to prove what a liar she was.

"A kiss, Sara. You let me kiss you. If you're not into it; into me than it shouldn't be a big deal. If you are into me…" he grinned. "Then I'll know it."

Sara laughed and leaned forward a little, her hair falling into her face. "You are so full of yourself, aren't you Scofield?"

Michael just grinned at her.

"And what if I say no?" She said meeting his eyes again.

"If you say no, than I'll know for sure anyways. So what do say?"

Sara squinted at him. "I say you're in for a big surprise."

And then when he just looked at her, "So kiss me rock star. What are you waiting for, lay one on me," she laughed throatily.

Michael's smile fell away, and he moved closer. But instead of kissing her, he reached around and opening the door behind her, he slipped out, leaving her standing there with her mouth hanging open in surprise.


	9. Chapter 9

(Sorry this took so long, but the site was not letting me upload anything)

Head splitting, mouth dry like the Sahara, Sara rolled over her eyes taking in the detailed ink of his back. She blinked slowly hoping to clear her eyes of sleep and disbelief, but when she opened them again he was still there beside her. It seemed she was once again in Michael's bed, but this time she had no clue how she had ended up there. Had the two of them..?

She quickly, but stealthily pulled the blankets away from her body to see that she was fully clothed in the jeans and t-shirt she had been wearing the night before.

Flooded with relief her wide eyes then moved back to Michael. She was afraid to look, but afraid not to. She took in a deep breath and eased the blankets up just enough to see that even though his upper body was bare; his hips were safely clad in faded denim.

Her breath rushing out in relief, she dropped the blankets down afraid the cool air might awaken him. She then lay back and took a deep breath as she tried to remember what had happened. She could remember leaving the library hoping for a quiet night in front of the television, only to come home to a party going full blast. She even remembered seeing Heather and meeting Lincoln, but then what?

She rubbed a hand across her aching head trying to force her temporary amnesia away. She squeezed her eyes closed and…And it all came rushing back... Michael wanting to kiss her; her drunken Rock star comment…Everything. She remembered it all.

((((((Flashback))))))))

Sara leaned back against the door her mind spinning from the alcohol she had consumed. Had that really just happened? Had Michael convinced her to let him kiss her only to walk out?

Her thoughts unclear, Sara replayed the conversation that had ended with him walking out his clenched jaw and steely eyes, a vastly different replacement for the cocky grin he usually wore.

So was that all it took, she couldn't help thinking. Had she actually managed to penetrate his over inflated ego with one barbed remark?

"Pop!" She said aloud to the empty room, the word sending her into a fit of giggles.

She clamped a quick hand over her mouth and hiccuped, her eyes falling on the beer the two of them had shared briefly. It was still on the counter where Michael had placed it before leaving the kitchen. Her laughter died instantly on her lips as the realization of what she had said to him hit her. She had obviously touched on a sore spot. She really hadn't meant to. Had she? Had she been so desperate to avoid his lips?

Her mouth suddenly dry, Sara grasped the bottle, the cold glass slippery in her hand as her fingers slid around it. She looked at the half full bottle studying its contents. And then closing her eyes she brought it up to her parted lips.

She took a deep pull, followed by another until the bottle was empty. And then setting it aside she turned and pushed open the door a breath of cigarette smoke awaiting her lungs as she stepped into the packed living room.

She walked a few paces almost tripping over a beer bottle someone had abandoned and then let her eyes roam over the party goers searching the sea of unfamiliar faces for Michael.

She hadn't been searching long when she spotted him. He was talking to a girl with honey blond hair, the girl gazing up at him adoringly. Sara noted the long nails wrapped around his tattooed arm and then her eyes moved to his face.

He was smiling at the girl sexily. Sara felt her jealousy rage and fought it down. She was about to turn away when Michael looked up. He seemed to be looking right at and through her at the same time. Then his eyes were back on the blond, his sexy smile in place.

Sara told herself to just walk away, but she felt rooted to the spot as he brought up a hand to cup the girl's face. And then he lowered his head his mouth moving in hungrily taking her lips, as his hand snaked behind her head drawing her closer. The girl was into it. She moved in, her arms wrapping around him, sensuously pressing forward.

Sara felt as if she had been sucker punched, all of the oxygen rushing out of her. She took a deep gulp of the smoky air and her paralysis finally broke.

She turned around, her need to be out of there increasing by the second.

In her haste to get away she almost barreled into a guy rolling a keg, but somehow managed to avoid adding injury to insult by stepping aside. She was moving blindly passed more people then she would have thought physically possible of fitting in the small apartment, not even sure of where she was headed when she saw him.

He had two beers and a smile, but when he saw the look on her face his smile faltered.

"You okay? Did something happen?"

Sara took one of the beers and downed it. She wanted nothing more then to drink until the image of Michael and the blond was washed away.

Without answering him, she reached for the second cup of beer, but Lincoln held it out of her reach a concerned look on his face.

"I don't think so, Sara. How many beers have you had?"

Sara laughed. "Does it matter?"

She shook her head. "Forget it. Dance with me Lincoln, I wanna dance!"

Not waiting for his response she pulled him close. He leaned away downing the beer, tossing the cup away. And then even though the music was hard and fast, his arms came up around her slow and smooth.

Sara felt the room spin as he turned them around. She leaned her head against his shoulder burying her face in his neck, her red hair a lush curtain draping across his bare back. He was moving them slowly; seductively and his hard body pressed against hers felt good, comforting in its nearness.

She felt herself letting go; relaxing in his strong arms as his warm breath sent shivers down her spine. And then his lips found tender skin. Sara moaned softly lost in the driving music as the sensations rushed through her leaving her warm. And then she felt a hand clamp onto her arm. The mood was shattered as she was ripped from Lincoln's arms to face Michael's pissed off eyes.

"What the fuck Mike?" Lincoln was eying Michael's tight grip on her arm.

"Let me go!" Sara wrenched her arm free, her eyes smoky.

"We need to talk," Michael said, ignoring Linc completely, his eyes never leaving her.

Sara staggered closer to him. "About what Michael… Blonds and stupid games? About kisses and…and…You know what, I don't want to talk to you. I was dancing…I was having fun!"

She turned back to Lincoln who was looking from her and back to Michael as if assessing the situation.

"Take care of her, she's pretty wasted, man."

Michael nodded.

Sara watched as Lincoln walked away.

"Fine, if he won't dance with me, I'll just find someone who will."

And then she shouted drunkenly to Lincoln's retreating back, "Fine!"

She turned and was starting to walk away when Michael grabbed her arm.

"Come on, let's go," He insisted as he pulled her along.

She wanted to protest, but the room was spinning again. And then she was leaning against him, his chest against her back as they moved through the crowded room. She closed her eyes and let him herd her along. She only opened them when the door shut drowning out some of the noise alerting her to the change. They were in Michael's room.

"Why are we in here, Michael?" His back was against the door and he was studying her intently. She took a step closer, and then another trying to move passed him, but he wouldn't budge.

I know what you're trying to do, Michael," she slurred.

"What am I trying to do, Sara?"

She put her hands against his chest to steady herself, and then looked over her shoulder at his bed.

"It won't work though, 'cause I don't want you."

He nodded, his eyes serious, "So you've said."

"I meant it too…I did…I do, I mean. You're not my type at all. You're really not. I mean I'm going to be a doctor someday Michael."

Sara closed her eyes against the swirling room and leaned her head against her hands, which were still pressed to his chest. After a few seconds she raised her head up and looked at him.

"That was supposed to be mine…that kiss." This was spoken softly, almost a whisper.

"But you're not into me, remember?" Michael was studying her closely all cockiness gone.

Sara let her eyes move to his lips and then back up to his eyes before she spoke.

"Prove it."

He looked at her for a few beats of her racing heart and then his mouth was hot on hers, his tongue delving into her sweetly; slowly before pulling back.

And then his rapid breathing a match for her own he looked into her eyes judging her reaction. "I'd say we've pretty much proven…"

She reached and cupping his face pulled his mouth down on hers ravenously. Gone were the sweet dips of tongue the light sucking of lip, this was all out war.

She pushed her tongue into his mouth tasting him, her hands moving over his shirt finding the hem. And then hot skin was at her finger tips as she traced the unseen tattooed images greedily. She pressed her body tightly to his and his arms wound around her cupping her to him. She felt a moan building and voiced it sending his lips to her neck.

She couldn't seem to get enough of the taste; the feel of him against her, in her hands. She pulled him backwards across the room and then they were falling onto the bed with him on top. His hands moved over her a sigh escaping her lips at his exploration.

Oh, God was this how it felt to be so desperate for someone, like you couldn't get enough; like you couldn't get close enough no matter how hard you tried?  
Sara's thoughts were whisked away by his hot mouth on her collar bone sending shivers through her.

She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer, his body hard against her exciting her more; sending her mind and body a whirl with emotions unimagined.

"Too many clothes," she managed breathlessly.

And then his shirt was off and tossed aside. Her lust heavy eyes drank in the sight of him, intoxicating her further, as she ran her hands down his bare chest and then down his sides urging him closer.

Her hands found their way to his hips pulling him against her. She heard a moan, and unsure which of them had voiced it, she let her hands slip into his back pockets as she thrust against him, all the while their tongues danced to a rhythm of the breathless noises emitted softly as they kissed.

Sara was pushing at his jeans trying to ease them down his hips when he pulled away from her breathless.

"Sara, maybe this isn't"…"

His voice was heavy with desire, but what was he saying and why did he sound so far away? She tried to pull him closer no longer trying to make out his words. Her hands were cupping his face, but she could no longer focus on him. He grabbed her hands and she opened her eyes to look at him, but then they slipped closed again and all went dark.

(((End of Flashback)))

Sara ran a hand through her bed tangled hair and took another deep breath. So they had made out. That wasn't so bad was it? Yes it was. She was in his bed after a night of drinking, something she rarely if ever did, and with good reason apparently. Sara + booze slut. God how could she have behaved that way?

She heard his breathing change and lay as still as possible hoping not to have awakened him. After a few minutes his breathing was once again deep with sleep. But still she waited another few minutes for good measure. And then sure that he was indeed asleep, she eased her body from under the blankets and to the floor.

She spotted her shoes at the foot of the bed and made her way quietly to them, grabbing them up she tiptoed to the door. She looked back at his sleeping form and then eased the door open and slipped out. She moved quicker as her feet hit the carpet of trashed living room stopping only to snatch up her jacket and keys. And then she slipped out the door into the early morning sunshine, leaving the smell of stale cigarette smoke behind..


	10. Chapter 10

Sara pushed shut the door of her late model car and began making her way to the apartment door.

She had no way of knowing who or what she would find awaiting her when she walked into her new, albeit temporary home, but she knew she couldn't stay away forever. It was almost 8:00pm and she was exhausted from looking at the tiny print of her text books all day.

And along with studying, Sara had also, much to her dismay, spent a good deal of time that day thinking about things in the quiet stacks, said things being Michael and the growing heat between them.

The problem was she had probably spent more time thinking about the previous night then actually studying; letting events in her life distract her from what was truly important to her, her education.

And as the day turned into evening, into night, with her thoughts drifting back to him again and again, Sara had been reminded over and over what a distraction Michael was, a distraction that she couldn't really afford. Not if she wanted to keep her grade point average high enough to hold onto her scholarship, that is.

Yes, if she had gleaned one thing this long day it was the realization that she and Michael were too different to be together. They had different ideals; different hopes and dreams.

And then she would find herself thinking of the how his mouth felt on hers…how his hands had felt on her body...But every time she thought of the steam between them she would remind herself that he wasn't right for her.

She would remind herself how cocky and self absorbed he was. Oh, and let's not forget the newly discovered temperamental and moody aspects of his character. Those were real winners; just what she needed in her already hectic life…Not.

She didn't have time for a normal, easy relationship much less a stressful one. And if she knew anything it was this. Being with Michael wouldn't be easy. Besides, she didn't know what the night before had even meant to him. Was she just another roll in the hay? Thinking about it was just more stress. It was better to just pretend it hadn't happened and try not to feel too awkward around him until she could get a place of her own.

She sighed now as she lugged the heavy tomes of her labors to the door, and rested them on a hip as she fitted the key into the lock. She was about to pull it open when it was yanked from her hand; almost causing her to drop her books and stumble off the small porch.

"Sara… God, where have you been?! I need you!"

Heather was wide eyed and wringing her hands in agitation.

"I was where I'm always at, Heather, the Library." Sara said, taking her friend's dramatics in stride as she moved tiredly passed her and into the room.

Tossing her books onto the sofa Sara breathed a sigh of relief that Michael didn't appear to be about, and then turned back to Heather.

"What's going on this time?"

Heather ran a hand through her dark hair, and then put both hands together as if in prayer, her eyes wide and hopeful.

"Well, I need a favor. Please say yes! I need you to please, please, please come with me to the club tonight…"

As Sara opened her mouth to whine that she had to get some sleep tonight or she was going to fall over, Heather brought her hands to her chin begging.

"Please, Sara, Jason is supposed to be there tonight and I really need your support. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't so important."

Sara closed her eyes for a second and then opened them, her lips pressed together.

She knew if she went to the club she would most likely see Michael there. She remembered Heather telling her his band had a set or two that night.

And while facing him was inevitable, Sara didn't think she was ready to see him just yet. What she really wanted was a night off from dramatics and game playing. And where Michael was concerned she couldn't help but think it was all a big game. A hot game, but a game none the less.

She pushed away the image of his heavy lidded stare and friction reddened lips and promised herself if she did this, if she went to the club tonight she would just stay away from him. How hard could it be? He would be playing tonight with his band; that should keep him busy, shouldn't it?

She sighed deeply, Heather's puppy dog eyes winning her over.

"Okay, I'll go with you. But I need a shower first. I smell like old books and…well old books."

Sara knew she probably also smelled like Michael since she was still wearing the same clothes from last night, but that was something Heather didn't need to know.

Sara smiled as her words sent Heather jumping up and down, a huge smile lighting her features.

And then shaking her head at her friend's excitement, she made her way to Heather's room to get the things she would need for her shower.

XXXXX

The sultry sounds of Michael's voice filled her ears as they entered the club and Sara breathed a sigh of relief.

He was already on stage, meaning she would have at least a short while before his eyes would sear into her leaving her warm, and thus weakening her resolve. The ride to the club had consisted of Heather's nervous chattering and Sara's quiet contemplation. Still she had managed to devise a plan on the short drive.

If Michael demanded a confrontation tonight she would just tell him it was a mistake; a huge drunken mistake. She would look into his intense eyes and lie to him. And really it wouldn't be much of a lie, would it? Because the two of them hooking up would be a huge mistake, she was certain of this.

Now as she moved through the smoky club with Heather two steps in front of her scanning the crowd for Jason, she felt her heart beat quicken. She couldn't kid herself that she didn't want to see him; that her dry throat and fluttery stomach were due to a lack of sleep and dehydration.

No she couldn't deny to herself that she wanted him. She was far passed that point. But she was too smart to let a physical attraction interfere with her future; to jeopardize all she had worked so hard to attain.

As they moved further into the room she let her eyes move to the stage and there he was. Sure that he couldn't see her; that she was much too far away from the stage, she let herself indulge in the sight of him.

He was wearing navy blue work pants and a short sleeved work shirt unbuttoned, with a wife beater beneath clinging to the definitions of his muscular chest showing just a hint of the tattoos that fascinated her.

She itched to examine each and every line and detail until they were forever etched in her mind. And as she watched him she couldn't help but notice the small bead of sweat trailing its tongue lazily down his face.

She gulped back a sigh and licked her lips as she took in his closed eyes, his brow knit with feeling. He was gripping the microphone in both hands as he sang the powerful words that made Sara wonder what event in his life had inspired them; that is if he had even penned said lyrics himself.

She listened closely her eyes never leaving him as she was touched by the raw emotion in his voice:

"Take back the yesterdays,  
the times when you were told,  
to stand alone, to be a man as the chapters of life unfold.  
To pass the time we amuse ourselves with life's uncanny dreams,  
But in the end we're still alone or so it always seems."

Sara jerked her eyes away as Heather squeezed her arm tightly and spoke loudly in her ear.

"There he is! Oh, God Sara he's with someone! How can he do this to me?"

Sara followed Heather's eyes to Jason. He was standing a short distance away, a blond with an ample bosom hanging on his arm. She saw the blond lean in close to be heard and then Jason smiled; the whole scene reminding Sara of the night before with Michael and Miss Honey blond.

She pushed away her thoughts and turned back to her heartbroken friend.

"Come on; let's just get out of here."

Heather shook her head. "Oh, no, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving just because he brought his…his…I'm not leaving!"

Sara sighed. Well at least she had tried. But she knew better then to try to argue with Heather. She could see the Scofield determination shining in her friend's eyes. She just hoped Heather stayed away from the booze tonight, if not there was sure to be a problem.

"Come on let's go to the table."

Sara followed as Heather led the way to the table reserved for the friends and family of the band members. She watched hesitantly as her friend plopped into a seat. She was reluctant to be so close to the stage, but how could she explain that one to Heather?

Sara looked towards the stage and sat down with a sigh. Michael was sure to see her now. Not that she had planned to hide from him all night. But still...She let her eyes travel around the room refusing to look at him again; refusing to meet his eyes if she could help it.

She looked everywhere but at him. She let her eyes move to Linc who was pounding the skins, shirtless as always, the sweat glistening on his muscular chest with each beat.

Now why couldn't she be more interested in Lincoln? Well, she was attracted to him, who wouldn't be? But her attraction wasn't on the same level as her attraction to Michael.

And while she knew this was a crazy thought; a drummer in a rock band wasn't much better then a singer, she told herself that at least with Lincoln she would be walking into it blindly, without knowing he would break her heart.

And that was just it. Sara knew Michael would ultimately break her heart. She knew they would end badly, and if she were to be honest with herself he scared the hell out of her.

The song ended and she looked up forgetting her ruse of not looking at him. He was staring straight at her, and the look on his face was hard to read.

When the set ended the guys all clambered off the stage, heading their way. Aside from Sara and Heather there were two other girls seated at the table. The giggling pair wasted no time in jumping up to wrap their arms around their guys claiming them.

Lincoln plopped down next to Sara and smiled, but something was different, less friendly than the night before.

"How ya doin'?"

She smiled feeling embarrassed, and looked into her coke.

Michael barely looked at her as he eased his long frame into the seat next to Heather's. He picked up his sister's drink and sniffed at it before downing half of it in one thirsty gulp. Heather, who was now on her fourth drink, reached and grabbed if from him with a playful scowl.

"Great set, Mikey! I loved the new song!"

Michael grinned and took the drink back downing what was left of it.

"You love all of my songs, you're my sister, it's you're job."

He then looked to Sara with a cool smile. "Good morning, Sara."

Sara felt her cheeks flush and looked away.

Fortunately Heather, who was well on her way to being fully intoxicated didn't seem to think it odd that her brother should say good morning to her friend at this time of night. In fact Heather was so busy staring over Michael's left shoulder she would have missed anything short of a nuclear blast. And the look on Heather's face was almost nuclear.

Sara followed her friend's eyes. Jason was dancing sensuously with the blond, their hips touching. The music which was piped in through speakers throughout the room wasn't very loud so it was easy to be heard without yelling.

When Heather started shouting it wasn't hard for everyone including Jason to hear her. "You lousy son of a bitch! I hate you!"

Heather jumped from her seat. Sara looked to Michael, but he was already moving.

He grabbed his sister, wrapping his arms around her waist anchoring her. She was still struggling with him when Jason foolishly headed their way.

"Heather you're making an ass of yourself, you know that? You call me all the time; you show up at my job. When are you going to get it? WE ARE OVER!"

Heather burst into tears at this, with Michael instantly pulling her close.

"Keep her away from me man, okay?"

This was said to Michael, and then Jason was stalking away. Sara looked up to find Michael's eyes studying her. And then he turned his head and gently kissed his sister's hair, comforting her as she cried.

After Heather was calm and Jason was thankfully no longer anywhere in sight, Sara headed for the bathroom. She was just finishing up when she heard the door open and then click closed. Funny, she didn't remember the door clicking when she came in.

she flushed the toilet and opened the door, her intention to head straight for the sink to wash up. However, when she stepped out of the stalls she froze in her tracks. Michael was standing with his back against the door. He was leaning into it, his hands in his pockets as he studied her.

Heart instantly pounding, Sara pulled her eyes away and forced movement into her frozen limbs. She headed for the sink, where she cranked on the hot and cold taps and quickly washed her hands. She couldn't help but notice the way they were shaking. God, she hated how he affected her! She turned off the water and grabbed a paper towel.

He still hadn't spoken when she tossed it into the garbage and turned to him, her voice echoing off the cold tiles.

"I'm not in the mood for games tonight, Michael."

He didn't budge.

"I just wanna go back to the table, okay?"

She was aware of the slight tremor in her voice and silently cursed herself for her weakness.

And then he was moving towards her.

"I wasn't playing a game last night, Sara. Were you?"

Sara tried to move passed him but he grabbed her arm. She closed her eyes for a second and then turned to face him.

"Yeah, I guess maybe I was Michael. I mean I was pretty drunk. I don't think it would have happened otherwise, do you?"

He let her arm go, but she could still feel his fingers where they had touched her skin.

"So if I leave with someone tonight it won't be you?" His words shocked her into looking at him.

She shook her head. "No, it won't be me. It won't ever be me, Michael. That's what I'm trying to say here."

She had to force the words from her lips; their passing leaving her chest with a dull ache.

He looked down; as if intently studying the green tile would somehow make the grime disappear. And then he faced her, his eyes cool and his words even cooler.

"Check mate."

He walked passed her and unlocked the door, leaving her alone.


	11. Chapter 11

Sara stood staring at the closed door, Michael's last words hanging heavy in the air around her. She walked slowly back to the sink and leaning into it, hands clutching cold porcelain; she stared into the mirror at her reflection.

As she took in her tired features she told herself she was relieved that it was over, whatever 'it' had been. But as she stared into her coppery eyes she wasn't totally able to convince herself it was fatigue and not sadness that returned her stare.

XXXXX

Sara was about to give up when she found Heather in one of the backstage rooms; the last place she had thought to look.

Her friend was sitting talking to Lincoln, and when Sara walked up they both grew quiet. She was about to ask if she had maybe interrupted something when Linc stood and said he had to go look in his van for some extra sticks for the drummer in the band that was up next.

He nodded at Sara on his way out and again she noted the less friendly vibe he was sending out.

Maybe she was just imagining things? Or even worse, maybe she had made a fool of herself last night and he wasn't even interested. Great, that's all she needed, another guy to feel awkward around!

She took the seat next to Heather on the old sofa, curling her feet under her.

Once comfortable she reached out to give her friend's arm a caring squeeze.

"How are you doing...Better?"

Heather shrugged and looked down at her hands studying them. When she finally looked up she surprised Sara with her words.

"Um, Sara…Are you into Lincoln at all?"

Sara blinked a few times and then met her friend's eyes. "Um, no, I mean I'm not into him. I mean he's hot and everything, but I can't afford to be involved with anyone right now. Why?"

Heather was smiling shyly. "Well…Last night he and I kind of hooked up. I mean it was just sex, but it was really hot sex, if you know what I'm saying?"

Sara nodded. She might be a virgin, but she knew exactly what Heather was saying.

She pushed the image of Michael lying next to her from her head and smiled at Heather.

"Linc seems really great. I'm happy for you, Heather. I mean if you plan to take it passed, um, just sex?"

Heather shrugged again, "Who knows? I mean right now my head is so messed up from Jason…I really don't know what I want, Sara. But Linc is fun…and he's so damn hot!" She grinned.

Sara laughed. "Yeah, he is."

Heather leaned back on the sofa and sighed. "I might go home with him tonight. That is if I don't pass out first."

Sara shook her head. "I worry about you sometimes Heather. You drink too much."

Heather waved her away and then attempting to stand, she almost fell back down.

She giggled and caught onto the sofa arm, righting herself before she could tumble back down. "Speaking of drinking, come on, I want another one. I'm losing my warm fuzzy feeling."

Sara shook her head again, but stood up and followed Heather back out to the front of the club.

Sara stood waiting by the bar as Heather ordered her drink. As she waited she let her eyes move over the crowd looking for Michael. She was figuring if she knew where he was she could avoid him.

She sighed in relief when she didn't see him out by the tables lining the small dance floor. But her relief was short lived. When she turned back to Heather, she saw him by the door. And he wasn't alone.

Sara looked away from him letting her eyes move over Miss Honey blonde's club wear of choice; a short black skirt and skin tight belly shirt. Sara couldn't help but notice the girl was hanging on Michael like a cheap suit.

Sara pulled her eyes back to Michael. He was staring at her, the look in his eyes daring.

Daring her to what, tell him not to leave with the blond? She held his eyes for a second, and then Miss Honey blond in tow; he turned and walked out the door.

"Check mate indeed." Sara said softly under the cover of the loud music.

She pulled her eyes away and looked back at Heather.

She had been almost sure Heather hadn't even noticed Michael and his companion, until her friend nudged her and leaned into her ear to be heard over the band.

"I think he's into her. I mean he hasn't brought anyone home in days!"

Sara let her friend's words sink in, her heart hitting the floor as she realized it was true. Michael hadn't brought anyone home with him since he met her.

XXXXX

Sara had looked everywhere for Heather, but unlike the last time, this time her patience was not rewarded.

Sara reached for the cell phone in her small purse. She opened the side zipper where she always kept her phone and her car keys and dug her hand in. She pulled out the phone and was about to try calling Heather when she realized something; the pocket had been empty except for her phone and a few pieces of gum.

She stuffed the gum back into the smaller pocket and then moved to the bigger one. With a sigh she dug her hand into the junk that was forever finding its way into her small hand bag. No keys. What the hell?

She took her bag over to an area of the club that offered a little more light and stuck her nose into the bag, still no keys.

With a sigh she headed for the door. She made her way to where she was sure they had parked her car and looked around. The car was gone.

She felt her heart speed up at the idea of Heather driving in the state she was in, and then heaved a sigh when she remembered her friend saying she was going home with Lincoln. But if she went home with Linc, then why hadn't they just taken his van?

Sara looked around. There were two vans in the club parking lot, but she had no clue which one belonged to Lincoln, or if either of them even belonged to him for that matter.

Her heart still pounding she pulled out her cell phone again to call Heather. She listened as it rang twice and then Heather's voice filled her ear asking her to leave a message or a massage, followed by her friend's infectious giggles.

Flipping the phone closed Sara hurried back into the club to look for anyone who might be able to tell her something. She was speeding passed the bar when she saw Jack, one of the guitar players in Michael's band.

She put on the brakes almost crashing into him.

"Jack, have you seen Heather or Lincoln?"

She was out of breath and having to shout over the loud music wasn't helping.

Jack shook his head. "No, why, what's goin' on?"

Sara took a deep gulp of the smoky air. "I need to find them. I think they left together, but if they did they took my car…and if they didn't…" Sara didn't have to finish. She saw the worried look on Jack's face and remembered her first impression of him, that he had a thing for Heather.

And of course Jack had seen the big scene Heather had made with Jason, everyone had.

Jack pulled out his cell phone and then headed for the door, with Sara following him outside into the cool night air.

"Damn…Linc's not picking up." He began to pace.

"Where's Mike?"

Sara had been looking down at the cracked cement, but looked up at his question.

"He, um, left… a little while ago. I tried calling Heather but she's not answering."

Jack sighed. "What about you, how were you planning to get home?"

Sara shrugged. "I don't know… I hadn't really thought about it; a cab?"

Jack shook his head. "Come on, I'll give you a lift."

He tossed his phone to her and pulled open the door of a truck parked near the entrance to the club. Sara pulled open the passenger side and hopped in. She looked at the phone in her hand. Was she supposed to call someone?

"Try calling Michael, will you?" Jack said his eyes on the road.

Sara blinked a few times her eyes widening at the thought.

"Um, okay, but I don't…I don't know his number."

Jack was driving a bit fast for her liking, but she knew her stomach was reacting to the idea of calling Michael and interrupting something with the blond he had left with.

"It's in the call log."

Sara flipped open the phone with jittery hands and pushed the button bringing up recent phone calls. She saw 'Mike' and pushed it.

She took a deep breath and brought it to her ear. It rang three times and went to voice mail. Not knowing what to say she flipped the phone closed.

"He's not answering."

She set the phone aside and trained her eyes on the scenery that was whipping passed far too quickly.

And then Jack was pulling up outside the apartment.

"Come on," he said and hopped out.

Sara pushed open her door and hurried to catch up with him. She was about to say she didn't have her keys when Jack pushed open the unlocked door. Sara followed him in and the two of them stood in the empty living room.

She was about to suggest that maybe Michael had gone home with someone when she heard giggling coming from behind his closed bedroom door. Jack having heard it too, moved to it quickly.

"Shit," she heard him mumble, and then he knocked hard on the wood making Sara jump.

A minute passed and no one came to the door.

"Hey, Mike! Come on, man open the door!" Jack shouted.

Jack was tapping his hands against his thighs impatiently, and Sara had a feeling he was about two seconds from opening the door himself when it opened to a barely clothed Michael.

His chest was bare and his pants were zipped, but unbuttoned.

"What's going on?" His voice was edged with worry.

Sara had moved behind Jack when the door opened. But now she stepped around where Michael could see her. She saw different emotions pass across his face, one of them being relief?

And then his eyes went back to Jack. "Where's Heather? Is something wrong?"

Sara listened as Jack explained everything to Michael. Sara looked passed him and through the door at the blond sitting half dressed on his bed. She looked away and Michael caught her eyes. And then he looked behind him.

"You need to get dressed Aimee. Jack will take you home, right Bro?"

Jack looked at Michael.

"Ah, yeah okay. You sure you don't my help? I mean help looking for Heather?"

Michael shook his head. "I have a pretty good idea where she might be."

XXXXX

"I'm coming with you."

Her words stopped him in his tracks for a second, but then turning to her. "Yeah, okay. Someone needs to drive your car home. You won't wanna leave it out there over night."

Sara looked at him worriedly. "Out where, where exactly do you think Heather went?"

He ignored her and continued out the door. Sara hurried to catch up to him, her mind racing faster than her feet. When they were both seated he turned to her.

"There's this park Heather and I used to go to when…when our parents were fighting, or when we just needed to think." He paused, his eyes somewhere on her left cheek, avoiding eye contact. "Anyways, I'm pretty sure that's where we'll find her."

He turned away and put the key into the ignition. As Sara buckled her seat belt, she let his words sink in. She didn't know a whole lot about Heather and Michael's parents, just that they were somewhat well off; and that they paid all of Heather's expenses including the rent on the apartment.

She wondered now about Michael's relationship with his family, well other than Heather. Sara knew the two siblings were pretty close, and she could tell Michael loved his sister; she had seen that in his protectiveness of Heather.

She looked out the window as the silence grew thick in the air. She wished he would turn on the radio. She was about to reach and turn it on herself when he spoke.

"I didn't sleep with her, you know."

Sara's breath caught in her throat, but she kept her eyes trained out the passenger side window.

"No, but you would have."

"Well you made it pretty clear, Sara…" his voice was low; intense.

You know what, it doesn't matter. It's none of my business." Sara spoke calmly, but her insides were churning.

"Yeah, right, I get that. "

He flipped on the turn signal and Sara turned to see the park entrance. It was pretty dark, but the headlights of the car illuminated it to show the rundown park that was probably the primary hang out for many a teenager and or drug addict.

She was distracted from her thoughts as a figure moved in the darkness outside the car. She heard the locks click down as Michael locked them, and took a deep breath. Yeah, he was right; she wouldn't want to leave her car here for a minute unattended, and certainly not over night.

Michael made a left turn and then Sara saw her car illuminated in the gloom.

"Stay here," Michael warned, but she jumped out as soon as he did.

He glanced her way, but then continued onward, picking up speed. Sara matched his pace and the two of them made it to the side of the car at the same time. Michael leaned forward and peered into the dark car, and then looked at her.

"She's not in there." No sooner had he spoken then their attention was drawn by a noise on the other side of the car.

Their eyes met in the dark and then they both hurried around the car.

"Heather!" Michael stooped down to her.

She was sitting with her back to the car, her arms wrapped around her knees, crying softly.

Sara watched as he lifted his sister's hands gently away from her knees and pulled her close. Heather's crying got a little louder and she was trying to say something, but her face was buried in Michael's shoulder muffling her words.

And then Sara heard Heather say something about Michael running away here, and how she thought maybe she could too.

Sara stepped back feeling like an intruder, but she was afraid to wander far. She realized she probably should have listened to Michael and stayed in the car, but she didn't feel safe going back there by herself.

She heard Michael speaking softly to Heather and told herself not to listen, but she couldn't help herself.

"Do you remember that picnic with Gramps and how he showed you his teeth?"

Sara heard Heather laugh. "Yeah, when he took them out of his mouth, it scared me so bad I wet my pants!"

Michael laughed too. "Yeah, and you had to wear my stinky gym shorts remember? The ones that got lost in the trunk for two months?"

Heather giggled. "How could I forget?"

Michael spoke again; his next words much softer. Sara didn't hear what he said, but whatever it was, it worked in getting Heather moving.

Sara looked up as they came around the side of the car and then she moved to help Michael with Heather.

"Go ahead and get in your car, the keys are in the ignition."

Sara turned around to go, but when he spoke again she turned to look at him.

"Sara, lock your doors, okay?"

She nodded her head and then hurried to her car.


	12. Chapter 12

The next few days were spent with little sleep and a heavy workload. One of Sara's professors had sprung an assignment on her that had sapped all of her creativity, and most of her brain cells, or so it seemed.

She was just finishing up and hitting print when Heather popped her head around the enclosed computer station making her jump.

"Did you get it finished?" Heather's voice, not quiet on most days fell just short of being library friendly.

"Shhh, you'll get me thrown out before the ink dries on my paper." Sara warned, but she couldn't help smiling at her friend.

Heather seemed to be feeling much better these days, and Sara thought she had an idea what, or who, was responsible for the change in her friend's mood.

"So are you going out with Lincoln again?"

The smile that lit Heather's face was all the answer Sara needed.

"Yep…Sara he's so amazing…and so not like Jason. I mean he actually cares what movie I want to see!"

Sara smiled at her friend teasingly. "Wow, imagine that!"

Heather leaned in close to whisper. "And he's way better in bed!"

Sara shook her head and laughed. "Way too much info, Heather."

Then something occurred to Sara. "Hey why are you here? I mean your last class was over half an hour ago, wasn't it?"

Heather nodded. "Yeah, but I'm here to rescue you."

Sara raised her eyebrows at this. "Rescue me?"

She hopped up, and with Heather following close behind she made her way towards the printer at the front of the library.

"I really do need rescuing, especially if said rescue is a trip to a day spa. Now that would be my idea of a total rescue," Sara sighed longingly.

"Nope nothing so glamorous, but you will see… Come on!"

Heather grabbed her paper and took off with it flapping beside her.

Sara raced to catch up with her friend.

"Wait, Heather!" She hiss/whispered. "You'll crease my paper!"

Sara grabbed it and smoothed out the pages that had held her prisoner the last two days.

"Where are we going, anyways?"

Heather shook her head. "Not telling. You'll just have to wait and see!"

Sara, feeling strangely uneasy about the whole thing, followed after her friend.

XXXXX

After ten minutes of questions without any real answers, Sara had finally given up asking where they were headed. She was trying to relax and just go with it, but with each mile that turned on the odometer she was becoming more and more concerned.

Wherever they were headed it wasn't close, and it would soon be dark. Sara let her eyes fall on her friend, studying her as she drove.

And then with worry present in her voice, "Um, Heather, we're not lost or anything, are we? I mean you would tell me if you thought we were lost, right?"

Heather stopped singing along with Britney and turned to her. "Nope we're not lost, Sara. Ooh speaking of Lost! I love Sawyer...Don't you? God, that man looks like he can fuck!"

Sara sighed in exasperation. This was what she had been getting for the last forty five minutes.

She leaned her head back telling herself wherever they were headed the night would eventually end and she would be allowed to go home to her beer stained sofa.

She blinked heavily at the thought and forced her eyes back open, vowing to stay awake.

But it was only a few verses of 'Oops I did it again' later, that Sara let her eyes fall closed, her intention only to rest. The next thing she knew the slamming of a car door was jarring her awake.

Sara bolted upright in her seat and looked around. The sky was heavy with the approaching darkness and she was alone in the car.

"What the hell?"

Sara sat forward peering out the windshield, and then as if to confirm that she couldn't possibly be seeing what she thought she was seeing, she jumped out of the car and ran around to the small camping area.

She took in the campfire and tents, and then let her eyes move to the serene waters of the small lake that was a short distance from where she stood.

She stood staring silently for a moment trying to take it all in; trying to figure out what Heather was up to, and then the soft notes of a guitar filled the air, making her heart pound.

Sara had one second to think that if that guitar belonged to who she thought it might belong to, her best friend was a dead woman, and then the walking dead girl herself was grabbing her around the waist.

"Well what do you think? Isn't it great, Sara?"

Sara was about to open her mouth to speak when the music stopped and Michael stepped out of the shadows.

Sara took one look at Michael's surprised expression and turned back to her friend. She grabbed Heather and pulled her out of ear shot.

"What are you doing Heather?"

Heather met her stare, her eyes serious. "I don't know, maybe I'm just getting sick of watching you pretend you don't like my brother? Maybe I figured if the two of you had some time to talk you would figure out that you're crazy about each other."

Sara felt like screaming, but tried to remain calm, phrasing her words carefully.

"Who...Why would you think I have a thing for Michael? We're very different people, Heather."

"Lincoln told me about the party, Sara. He told me how you and Michael were acting and I put two and two together. I'm not as dumb as people think I am, you know. I mean, I am capable of figuring out when my best friend and my only brother have the hots for each other!"

Sara stared after Heather as she stalked off to join Lincoln who was tending the campfire.

Forcing herself to move, Sara made her way to the car, the increasing wind blowing through her long hair reminding her that the forecast was for rain later that night.

She grabbed her light jacket from the back seat and shoved her arms into it. Not only was the wind picking up, but the breeze off the lake was getting a little cool, half convincing her that this was the reason she was shivering slightly.

She hugged her arms close to her body and leaned against the car trying to figure out what she should do. She could demand that Heather take her back to campus to get her car, or she could just try to make the best of a bad situation.

She glanced at the two tents her mind moving to the sleeping arrangements. One tent for the guys; one tent for the girls?

At Heather's flirtatious giggle Sara squeezed her eyes closed. This was a complete nightmare! She looked at the three figures sitting by the fire; Heather and Lincoln cuddling close and Michael with his guitar.

Sara shivered as the wind picked up again. She was cold, damn it! Why should she stand over here freezing while everyone else was toasty warm by the fire?

She made her way to the campfire her eyes on the flames.

"Hey, Sara," Lincoln said, and Sara couldn't help thinking how nice it was that at least someone had acknowledged her presence at the campfire.

Michael hadn't even glanced at her. And neither had his sister, who was obviously still pissed at her for some reason, which totally baffled Sara. Shouldn't Sara be the one angry with Heather? After all she was the one being set up like some nightmare episode of Blind Date.

"Hey, yourself, Linc." She had managed before taking a seat and shifting her eyes back to the fire.

Now the seconds ticked away in unnatural silence.

When Michael began to play, Sara felt a moment of relief, the music easing the tension as the flames danced to the soft sounds his fingers coaxed from the strings.

She let her eyes move over him, he was looking down at his hands, head bowed low.

She took a deep breath and pulled her eyes away, preferring the somehow lesser heat of the campfire to the searing heat from his eyes if he were to catch her staring.

She could hear the soft giggles from Heather and the low voice of Lincoln and let her eyes move over them. They were getting closer; sneaking kisses and whispers of more.

Sara knew it would be only a matter of time before she was left alone with Michael.

She sighed and looked at the tents, but her attention was drawn back to the fire a few seconds later when Heather hopped up and made her way to the car.

Sara heard the door slam and then Heather was back, her hand extended to Lincoln.

Michael seemed oblivious to all around him as his sister, with Lincoln trailing behind made her way to a tent. Once inside the two sealed themselves away from the ever growing wind; leaving Sara and Michael alone.

A few minutes later Michael's song came to an end, and he set the guitar aside. Sara could feel his eyes, but she kept her gaze locked on the fire refusing to look at him.

She took a deep breath of the smoky scented air and stood up. She could hear Lincoln and Heather fooling around, their efforts to be quiet, if indeed they were even making an effort, a complete failure.

Sara had made up her mind to just sleep in the car, leaving the tent to Michael. She knew it would be a rough night, but at least she could lock herself away from him and the night would eventually pass.

Heather's planned scenario certainly wasn't an option. Sara had no intention of talking to Michael, or hooking up with him on this romantic getaway.

Her mind set, she ignored his eyes on her and made her way the short distance to the car. She reached to open the door, but it was locked. Sighing softly she made her way to the other door. Locked.

She felt dread fill her along with something else. Damn it, Heather!

Sara thought of how her friend had gone to the car, and at the time Sara had just assumed it was to retrieve something, but now she wasn't so sure.

In fact she was sure of it, it fit in perfectly with the rest of this horrible night; once again Heather had set her up.


	13. Chapter 13

Sara made a beeline for the unoccupied tent. She crawled inside and spotting the two sleeping bags, she grabbed one of them.

Her mind made up, she crawled back out and walked with purpose to the campfire where Michael still sat.

He looked up at her, his smoky eyes dancing with flames, but still didn't say anything when she dropped the sleeping bag at his feet.

"I'm taking the tent."

Her only words had no effect on him, so she turned on her heels and still reeling from his hot stare walked back to the tent where once inside she sealed herself away from the growing wind, and the man that without even speaking a word, was somehow able to get under her skin.

XXXXX

The sound of thunder woke her, followed by rain. It came in quick; pelting the tent from all sides.

Sara looked around disoriented for a moment and then it all came back to her; where she was, the campsite.

She sighed and listened as the storm grew, her heart pounding as it occurred to her what would most likely happen next.

Michael was outside in this, and the storm which was steadily growing worse, would force him in.

She held her breath waiting for the sound of the zipper announcing his arrival, but as the seconds ticked passed, it didn't come.

What was he waiting for, an invitation?

She sighed and sat up. It was dark in the tent except for the occasional lightning flash. But Sara noticed the flashes were growing in their frequency.

She waited for a flash to light up the tent, illuminating her surroundings, and grabbed the electric lantern.

She turned it on and crawled to the tent opening. She pulled the zipper down and taking a deep breath to prepare for the onslaught of rain, she stuck her head out.

She couldn't see anything.

"Damn it, Scofield"! She blasted the empty air.

He was going to make her come out there after him.

Pulling her jacket hood up, she ducked out of the tent only to have it fall back down as the wind and rain pelted her.

She gasped as the chill sliced into her. She knew she would be soaked within minutes at this rate.

Where was he?

She squinted into the night, holding the lantern out in front of her, the pathetic torch not up for the task she was asking of it.

Getting her bearings, she walked towards the campfire which had long since drowned in the downpour.

He wasn't there.

She picked up the drenched sleeping bag and tossed it aside in frustration.

"Michael!" Her voice was no match for the blowing wind.

"Michael!" She tried again.

She was turning in a circle, her eyes stinging from the rain blowing into her face.

She jumped when she saw him in front of her as she came back around to her starting point.

"Where were you?" She fairly screamed in his face.

But he just turned her around in the direction of the tent. She let him push her forward without complaint; she just wanted to get inside the tent, and out of this mess.

She crawled through the opening with Michael right behind her and watched as he zipped up the tent and then turned around to face her.

She saw the rain dripping down his full lips reminding her of their taste; forcing her to avert her eyes.

She looked down at her clothes; more to avoid meeting his eyes then anything; she didn't need to look at herself to know she looked like a drowned rat. She was starting to shiver too.

"I'm going to kill Heather," she mumbled.

He laughed a little.

"Do me a favor? Kill drummer boy while you're at it? This hasn't exactly been my idea of a fun night either. And here I thought listening to my little sister get her freak on was the low point of the evening."

He wiped a hand over his dripping face, and reached to pull off his shirt.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He froze at her words, the shirt partially pulled up around his neck.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting out of these wet clothes. I'm freezing."

Sara opened her mouth to protest further, but then his shirt was off and he was using it to mop the water from his chest and arms.

She looked away from his wet tattoos, trying not to notice how they glistened in the soft glow of the lantern, and forced her gaze back down.

She shivered and wiped her hands on her soaked jeans. She was seriously cold.

Deciding it would be ridiculous if not foolish to remain in her wet jacket; she pulled the sopping wet garment off and tossed it aside.

She was relieved to see that her shirt was still fairly dry, but her jeans were plastered to her legs like paper mache.

She was leaning over to the side wringing out her dripping hair when she saw him looking at her. She tried to ignore his eyes, but it wasn't long before she looked up at him.

"What?" Her voice trembled from her lips, her teeth chattering slightly.

He was staring at her mouth. Her heart started to pound and she wondered how it was possible to be freezing and yet feel so hot at the same time.

"I don't think I've ever seen anyone with lips that purple. You need to get out of those wet pants."

Sara's fingers flew to her lips as if she could discern their color just by touch.

"Yeah, well your wonderful sister didn't think to bring me a change of clothes so I guess I'll just have to tough it out."

He shook his head and reached to unbutton his equally soaked jeans, "Suit yourself."

Sara ripped her eyes away as he stripped down to his boxers.

Her teeth were really chattering now, but her cheeks were flushed, as she sat staring down at her hands trying to rub some warmth into them.

"Look, Sara this is stupid. I'll turn around while you get undressed. And I promise not to look until your safe inside the sleeping bag, okay?"

Sara looked up at him. He looked cold too.

"What about you? We only have the one bag. You can't sit there like that all night, you'll freeze."

Michael looked down at his tattooed chest and Sara followed his eyes. His nipples were hard from the cold and she thought she saw goose bumps.

"I'll be okay. Just get out of those before you get hypothermia, already."

He turned around facing the tent opening.

Sara unsnapped her jeans and eased down the zipper, the sound seemingly loud in the tent despite the constant sound of the wind and rain.

She rolled the wet material down her cold, splotchy thighs, and the goose bumps hit her legs as the cool air touched them.

She hurriedly pulled them the rest of the way down, the sleeping bag and its warmth calling to her.

When her legs were bare she climbed into the bag wearing her t-shirt and panties and zipped herself inside.

Sara curled up hoping the cold bag would warm up soon. She looked at Michael and told herself he would be okay, the alternative something she didn't want to think about.

"Feeling any warmer?" His voice broke the silence.

"Um, a little, yeah, thanks." She was afraid to ask how he was doing.

"Well we should probably try to get some sleep."

Were his teeth chattering now?

She watched as he lay down as far from her as the small tent would allow; curling into himself for warmth. He was reaching for the lantern when she spoke.

"Michael, wait. You were right, this is crazy. You'll freeze before morning. You'll get sick."

She reached and unzipped the bag before she could change her mind. He looked at her meeting her eyes, but she looked away quickly, making him hesitate.

"Just come on before I change my mind?"

He crawled to her and slipped in next to her; his body close but not touching in the small bag that was designed for one.

He zipped them in and turned his body to face her, mere inches separating their faces.

"Thanks…I really am cold."

She felt him shiver next to her.

"Um, maybe if we, um…" She moved closer and their bodies were fully touching. "Just until we get warm," she finished.

Michael didn't say anything, the only sound in the tent that of their breathing.

But then, "I think it finally stopped raining. "

His voice was so near, his breath warm against her forehead.

She was starting to warm up, but wasn't sure if it was the sleeping bag or his closeness spreading warmth through her cold limbs.

She nodded and leaned closer her head resting near his chest. She felt his arm move, and then he was pulling her closer, causing her breath to leave her.

"Um, Michael…"

And then he was shushing her. "Shh, Sara this is okay. This is all that's going to happen here. I promise."

Sara let out her breath. "Okay."

She wasn't sure why she suddenly trusted him, but she did.

She moved her head closer, his bare chest cool against her hot cheek, the sound of his pounding heart filling her ear.

She was trying to relax, but the feel of his body kept her wired with tension, and her heart felt as if it might explode.

She closed her eyes and took in his sent, a mixture of rain and the scent that was solely Michael, one she couldn't quite describe. All she knew was that it left her breathless and wanting more.

She felt him breathe next to her and wondered what he was thinking.

"Michael?"

"Yeah?"

"Um, did you um, have you been…never mind." She couldn't bring herself to ask the question.

As if reading her mind, "I haven't been with anyone since I met you, if that's what you were trying to ask"

Sara didn't say anything; she just snuggled closer to him. She felt his arm tighten around her and slid her own arm around his waist to his hard back.

With her arm no longer between them they were closer than ever, her thin t-shirt and bra the only thing separating her from his much warmer skin.

His breathing was a little faster and then he flipped onto his back pulling her close. She laid her head on his chest, her wet hair dark, even against the inked darkness of his skin.

His heart was galloping, and then his voice, heard through his chest was loud in her ear.

"I'm going to do this, and you can say no…you probably will say no, but I'm going to ask anyways."

His heart sped faster at his words.

Sara had a feeling she knew what he wanted to ask her, but she was afraid to look at him so she just stayed where she was, his heart and voice thrumming together in her ear.

"Sara, will you go out with me, on a real date? I don't care where, or what we do…"

Even though she had been expecting this, Sara felt frozen by his words, not answering him.

"It's okay. I get it. I do."

"No you don't." Her tongue lost its paralysis.

"You're so wrong for me…"

She felt his soft intake of breath and he stiffened at her words.

She rose up and touched his face, his cheek rough under her soft palm, but the promise of his lips so sweet.

"You're so wrong for me but," she whispered again, her eyes conveying the opposite.

He shook his head.

"This is right Sara, this is so right. Can't you feel it?"

He was so close all she had to do was move in. And she knew he was waiting for her to make that move.

"I don't know what I feel, Michael. I mean, I thought I knew what I wanted. And I still want those things, but where you're concerned…"

She leaned forward and met his lips in a soft kiss; his breath sweet and tempting her lips to demand more.

But then she was breaking the kiss and pulling away, her head once more coming to rest against the beating flesh of his chest.

She was lying and they both knew it. She knew what she wanted, she wanted him.

And she knew that watching him with someone else would hurt more than if he were to break her heart a week; a month; a year down the road.

She knew that it was too late to just walk away from him.

"Yes, I'll go out with you, Michael. But this is all for tonight, okay?"

He answered with a soft kiss on her damp hair.

And then she was closing her eyes, telling herself it would be okay.

She sighed softly against him, and snuggled closer, finally feeling warm enough to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

Sara lifted her head from his chest and looked around the sun brightened tent.

It was morning and though she was slightly stiff, she felt pretty well rested.

She moved slowly so as not to awaken Michael, and leaned up on an elbow looking down at him. She found herself a little breathless being so near him, each follicle of stubble deliciously close. So close she could...

She let her eyes traveled along his neck and down to his tattoos, indulging in his peaceful demeanor.

Fighting the urge to trace a path with her fingertips she let her eyes continue along the intricate ink, and then back to his face. He was staring at her with a knowing smile.

"Um, ah I was, um…yeah."

She couldn't believe he had caught her ogling him!

She looked away her cheeks flushed, and attempted to run a hand through her tangled hair. It had still been quite wet when she fell asleep, and she knew it must look horrible.

"You know, Sara, it's not last night anymore…I mean you said nothing could happen last night…so technically we could…" He trailed off his voice teasing.

Sara laughed.

"Um, nice try Scofield, besides I'm surprised you can even look at me without turning to stone, I'm sure Medusa wants her hair back." She tried to joke.

"Trust me, Sara, I can't look at you without turning to stone," he teased again and moved his eyes down his bag covered form.

"You are so smooth, Michael Scofield. Do these lines really work for you?" She asked giving him an incredulous look.

He laughed and reached out to touch her hair. "No, and you're right, you do have some kind of snaky thing going on here."

"Gee, thanks. I'm not sure which I prefer; you're smooth moves to score, or your brutal honesty."

He laughed again and then growing serious he looked into her eyes, swiftly taking away her breath. "You look beautiful, Sara, snaky hair and all."

Sara gulped away the urge to kiss him and looked away.

"Yeah, I'll bet you say that to all the girls."

When he didn't say anything she looked back up at him.  
He was studying her intently, and it was making her nervous.

"Um, maybe we should, um…"

She had been about to suggest that they get dressed, but just then Heather stuck her head into their tent.

"Wakey, wakey, Sleepy heads!" Her mouth dropped open at the sight of the two of them in the sleeping bag together.

"Oh, my God!"

"Um, Heather, it's not…" Sara was trying to explain, but Heather was gone just as quick as she had come.

They could here her loud voice calling for Linc. No doubt she couldn't wait to share her discovery with him.

"I am so going to kill her," Sara moaned, but really she knew she should probably be grateful to her friend for interrupting. That and well maybe a little grateful for this whole thing?

Well, that was still to be determined, but Sara would thank Heather, if and when the time came.

She glanced shyly at her bed mate. "Um, maybe we should get out there and do damage control?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it might be a good idea."

His voice sounded serious enough, but Sara couldn't help thinking the whole thing was amusing to him, maybe because of the twinkle in his smoky eyes?

"It's not funny, Michael!"

And then he was laughing, and she couldn't help joining him.

XXXXX

Once back at her car, Sara grabbed her books and headed back to the stacks. She was deep in a copy of Grey's anatomy when she felt a light tap on her shoulder.

She looked up to see Michael smiling at her. He held two cups of what she prayed was coffee in his hands.

"Michael, what are you doing here?" She whispered.

"Bringing you coffee, what do you think I'm doing?"

By the way he was smiling at her she wasn't so sure.

"Um, okay." She reached for a cup and took a sip.

"Perfect." She smiled. "Um, have a seat?"

He came around and pulled up a chair; his knees a breath away from her own.

She felt rather frumpy, having simply pulled her hair up in a scrunchie after her shower. But she had to admit she was glad to see him.

"I do however have an ulterior motive," he said leaning forward a little in his seat, his eyes devilish. And Sara knew that long after he left she would see those hot slices of sky across the text she was trying to memorize.

"An ulterior motive, huh? Should I be worried about getting thrown out of here Michael?" She flushed at her own bold statement. God, he was rubbing off on her!

He grinned sexily. "Only if you want to, Sara."

He reached and put his hands on her knees sending a thrill from his fingers on up.

He gave them a quick squeeze and let go, leaning back in his chair.

Denying her eyes the path up his long legs clad in tempting, faded denim, she had already been caught staring once today, she moved straight to his face.

"I have a gig tonight at Club Kid. Say you'll come?"

Sara hesitated for a beat, mentally going through her closet.

"Come on, Sara. It's Saturday night," he said taking her hesitation to mean something totally different.

Sara leaned forward a little, her knees brushing his.

"Okay, I'll come, but only if I get this finished. It's due on Monday."

"Say no more," he said moving to stand.

Sara stood up too.

Suddenly nervous she took a deep breath. Was he going to kiss her goodbye? She ripped her eyes away from his smiling lips.

"Um, okay I'll, um… I'll see you later then."

She was moving to sit back down when he caught her arm.

"Sara?"

Sara looked at him, and his eyes moved from her coppery depths to land on her mouth. He studied her for a second and then he was moving towards her.

Sara felt her heart start to pound away in her chest, and then his lips were gently caressing hers.

He sucked in her bottom lip in a light teasing kiss and then pulled away a little leaving her mouth aching for more.

But before he could back away completely she leaned back in taking the lead, her mouth offering more force, her tongue demanding compliance as she delved in to taste him.

Her breath was coming fast and her mind was numb from him, and then she was pulling away, her heart feeling like that of a cartoon character about to explode out of her chest.

"Um, I have to get back to…ah, work."

He was smiling, but his eyes were heavy with something almost tangible, making her already speeding heart accelerate in her chest.

"Okay, I'll see you at the Club. I have to be there early so…"

"Yeah, okay, I'll just catch a ride with Heather or something."

She backed up bumping into her chair.

"Don't study too hard, "he teased, and then he was gone.

Bringing her coffee indeed. She smiled and shook her head.

God, how she loved coffee!

XXXXX

Sara took another quick look into the mirror and pulled down her shirt. It was a belly shirt from Heather's closet, and the slice of flat stomach exposed left her feeling a little self conscience.

She tried to imagine Michael's eyes on her and felt herself blushing; the feel of his lips earlier at the library still burning through her.

The kiss had been hot to say the least. Not to mention distracting.

Sara had barely gotten her paper finished in time to get back to the apartment for another quick shower and a quick scramble to find something somewhat sexy to wear.

She looked again at the shirt and wondered if it wasn't maybe a little too much. She didn't want to send Michael the wrong signals. But after the way she had ravaged his lips, it was probably already too late for that.

"Sara, come on already! He likes you with scraggily hair! You don't have to be prom queen prepared!"

Heather's voice from the living room cut through her reminding her that her friend had been ready "forever ago," Heather's exact phrase when Sara had walked though the door forty-five minutes ago.

She sighed softly and ran her fingers through her silky hair. And then turning to walk out the door, she paused and cast a last glance at her reflection, eying her butt in the snug fitting jeans she had chosen to wear.

"Come on, Sara!"

Sara sighed again and turned out the light, thinking the outfit would just have to do.

(Later)

They had only been at the club for a few minutes when Heather whispered in her ear.

"Ut oh… Don't look now, but Veronica is over there by the bar."

"Who? Oh!" Sara had almost forgotten about Veronica. Almost.

And then she found herself doing exactly what Heather had said not to do. She let her eyes move over the trampy outfit Veronica was wearing, or should she say barely wearing? The girl was falling out of the low cut gauzy blouse, and her skirt was so short Sara thought maybe she felt a breeze.

All cattiness aside though, Sara had to admit Veronica looked nothing short of stunning.

She looked down at her own clothing and felt a little silly for thinking the shirt might be a little to risqué. She looked up to find Heather studying her.

"You don't have anything to worry about where Veronica is concerned. Michael's through with her."

Sara forced a smile. "I'm not worried. Come on let's go see if we can find the guys."

It took them less then ten minutes to find the guys. Michael was sitting backstage, with a beer in his hand when Sara followed Heather through the door. His head shot up to meet her eyes and then moved over her like a sheet of liquid heat.

She felt his eyes stall at her exposed stomach and then he was moving to stand. She knew her cheeks must look flushed if the heat she felt on her face was any indication.

"Hey," he said simply and offered her his beer.

"Hey, yourself," she took the proffered beer and brought it to her lips.

Heather who was grinning like a fool looked from Sara and then back to Michael.

"Well, I see I'm not needed here, so I'll go find my drummer."

Sara didn't say anything, not realizing Heather had left until a few moments of silence later when she looked to find her gone.

"Um, so when do you guys go on?" Sara was feeling a bit self conscience suddenly, and said the only thing she could think to say.

"In a little while… Why? You're not trying to get rid of me again are you?"

Sara was pretty sure he was teasing, but his eyes seemed to hold a seriousness that was making her wonder.

"Of course not, why would I do that?"

He shook his head, a small smile touching his lips. "I've been wondering that for a while."

Sara didn't have much of a chance to ponder what he had said. The next thing she knew Heather was running through the room with Lincoln hot on her tail. The screeching duo flew passed them making Sara smile.

She turned back to meet Michael's still serious eyes and wondered what he was thinking.

A few seconds later he smiled and a twinkle lit his eyes, his serious mood fading just like that.

"Come on, Tancredi, I wanna dance with you before my first set."

Sara moved against him, surprising herself with her boldness. She felt his hip against her and let her fingers travel over his hard back down to his waist.

He was so close, his mouth a breath away from her lips. She felt his fingers move through her hair, sending shivers through her body.

This was too much. She moved back a little trying to ease the tension of their closeness, but a moment later his lips were grazing her neck.

"Michael," she mumbled against him, but he didn't hear her, the music from the first band was much too loud.

She felt herself once again giving into the sensations of him; this time of his mouth on her skin, and then she was being pulled from him.

She stumbled backwards and almost fell into another couple on the dance floor. She gained her balance a few feet away, watching as Veronica shoved Michael.

And then she was up in his face yelling drunkenly.

Sara couldn't make out Veronica's words, but she could pretty much imagine what the other girl must be saying.

And then Michael was yelling loudly, the band choosing just that moment to cease playing.

"We're over Veronica!"

Veronica was heaving; huge gulps of air rushing from her. "

We're over…Over? I don't think so Michael!"

Michael stood staring at her intensely. "We are over Vee, I'm sorry."

Veronica looked at him for a few beats and then slapped him hard.

All of this was happening quickly, but it seemed like it took forever to end. And then the band blew into another song drowning out the sounds of Veronica's sobs as she fled the dance floor.

Sara pulled her gaze from Veronica's retreating back and looked to see Michael staring at her, his eyes hard to read in the smoky bar. And then taking a deep breath and telling herself this wasn't his fault, she went to him.

He met her eyes briefly and then placing an arm around her waist, he led her away from the dance floor, leaving behind the curious onlookers who refused to believe that the little show, courtesy of Veronica was over.

Michael led her to one of the rooms backstage and shut the door behind them, and then turned to her.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. It wasn't…I didn't think she would be here tonight. Wait, that didn't come out right. I just meant that I know how she is. I've told her twice since I've been back that we're through. I made it clear, Sara, I swear."

He was looking her dead in the eyes and she believed him.

"Its okay, Michael, I believe you when you say that the two of you are through."

He sighed in relief and moved to her, taking her into his arms, pulling back only to cup her face, before bringing her chin up to meet his lips.

He kissed her gently and then pulled away.

"I don't want to…not here."

She looked at him, and he must have seen her confusion in her eyes.

"Just not here, Sara, okay? Not with you."

Sara nodded in understanding, her heart pounding. "Okay…not here, Michael."

He met her eyes, the blue intensity almost blinding, and then he leaned in to kiss her forehead.

His lips were soft against her skin; promising.

And she told herself that something that felt this good couldn't possibly be a mistake.


	15. Chapter 15

Sara rolled over, the crinkle of paper against her long hair drawing her attention. She lifted her head and reaching her fingers to explore her bed tangled hair, she pulled the small folded object in front of her for examination.

A small smile played on her lips, lighting her coppery eyes as she took in the delicate folds of the red and green origami rose. She brought it to her nose, the imagined scent much sweeter than any real rose.

This had to be Michael's doing. And if it was, he was continuing to surprise her. She twirled the rose between her fingers gently, enjoying the feel of it on her skin as she imagined Michael folding it. And then she looked down into its depths and saw the letters. She sat up and looked closer.

'Tonight at 8:00?' Her smile grew as she realized what this was. He was asking her on a date.

Where was he? She looked around, her eyes falling on his closed door. Had she slept on the flower all night, or had he simply slipped in this morning while she was sleeping?

She pushed the blanket aside and swung her long legs to the floor. She would make coffee. She was figuring maybe the aroma and a little bit of banging around in the kitchen might wake him. But the night had been a long one. In fact she was surprised she was up and about so early.

She had just pushed the button to start the pot when she heard the door swing open behind her. The rose was beside her on the counter. She wrapped her fingers around it and turned to him.

"Origami, huh?"

He shrugged. "I dated a Japanese chick once?"

Sara laughed. "It figures."

He walked towards her smiling. And she somehow managed not to gawk, but it wasn't easy. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and his jeans were unbuttoned and slung low on his hips, showing where his tattoo ended.

"So? Is tonight good for you?"

Sara nodded. "It's perfect actually. I mean my paper is finished and my professors haven't had a chance to dump another load of work on me."

He was staring at her. "Being a doctor is really important to you, isn't it?"

Sara nodded. "Yeah, it's really important. I've kind of the had this dream since I was a little girl. But it was when my mom got sick that I knew it was what I had to do with my life."

He ran his hands down her arms his eyes locked on hers.

"She died when I was ten. "

His hands came to grasp hers and squeezed lightly, not letting go.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I bet she would have been proud of you, Sara."

Sara smiled, "Thanks, I'd like to think so."

She cleared her throat, "So what about you? I mean have you always wanted to be a singer?" 

Michael laughed. "Well, no, not always. I actually wanted to be a Fire fighter up until I was about twelve. But then I got my first guitar." He smiled at the memory.

"It was weird, because my parents would never have gotten me a guitar. They wanted me to play the piano. Anyways, my Uncle Bob gave me his beat up six string when he got a new one. And since it was a gift, my parents had no choice but to let me keep it. I practiced non stop. My fingers were a mess!" He was looking down at his hands, smiling fondly. 

"Thank you for that."

He looked up at her questioningly. "For what?"

Sara smiled softly. "For sharing that with me. I guess I just like picturing you at twelve banging away on an old guitar."

He let one of her hands drop and reached to trail his fingers along the softness of her cheek. She was getting lost in his eyes when the door swung open again.

"God you two, I swear! Get a room already!" 

Michael's hand fell away, "Good morning to you too, Heather."

He smiled at Sara and turned around to his sister.

Sara took a deep breath and pocketed the rose.

"So what was up with Vee last night?"

Sara turned around to grab some mugs, and was pouring them all coffee as Michael filled his sister in on the previous night's dramatics.

"Holy shit! I knew she was a psycho! Sara here is way more sane, maybe too sane for you Mike," Heather teased, her eyes twinkling as she sipped at her coffee.

Michael's twinkling eyes met Sara's, and she laughed.

"Trust me, Heather, I'm not totally sane; if I was I couldn't be friends with you."

Heather pouted for a second and then they were all laughing.

"Michael you're making me nervous!"

Sara felt his hands tighten on her arms in reassurance, but he didn't offer to take off the blindfold.

They had left the apartment at 8:00 on the dot. And once in the car he had tossed the blind fold onto her lap, instructing her to put it on.

Of course she had felt a bit nervous with the idea of not being able to see where she was being driven, and his crack about how this way she wouldn't be able to leave if the date sucked, hadn't helped much to ease her mind, but still, she had gone with it.

Now he was leading her up some stairs and the creaking of a door could be heard, followed by the cool night air on her skin.

She heard the door close behind them with a slight bang, making her jump. And then he was leading her forward a little, the wind blowing gently against her legs, making her wonder if the red dress she had borrowed from Heather might be a little unseasonably thin for a spring night.

He brought her to a stop and leaned in, his lips warm against the back of her neck, surprising her. She felt a shiver travel through her and sighed softly.

His hands then left her shoulders and moved down her arms, to her hands bringing them up to rest on a flat cool surface. She was dying to know where he had taken her.

"Michael, come on!" She giggled.

"Shh, patience young grass smoker." He joked, and she couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, you know me."

He chuckled behind her; a deep sound that resonated through his chest and vibrated against her back.

"Close you're eyes, Sara." He demanded softly, his lips close to her ear.

She squeezed them closed tightly, her heart starting to pound, thinking if nothing else, he certainly won for most mysterious date.

And then he was reaching up to remove the blindfold, his fingers gently easing it away from her face.

"Okay, you can open them now."

Sara opened her eyes to a star filled sky, and then she saw them; the shooting stars. There were dozens of them streaking the sky. She felt her breath leave her. It was beautiful.

She remembered hearing about a meteor shower on the news, and hadn't thought much about it at the time.

But as she felt his arms wrap around her she couldn't help but think how perfect this was; how incredibly, wonderfully perfect for a first date.

She turned a little to look up at him, and his lips grazed her temple, making her sigh. She leaned closer against him as a slight shiver ran through her. The breeze was picking up. He pulled her closer, warming her. And then the sky was still, the show was over.

She turned in his arms and gazed up at his smiling eyes.

"So did you like it?"

She shook her head. "No, I loved it, Michael. It was amazing….You're amazing." 

She leaned up and kissed him softly, his lips parting as her tongue moved against them.

She felt her body warming against him, no longer chilly in the night air. But then he was pulling away. 

She groaned softly and he laughed.

"There's more. Come on."

He took her hand and led her around the building. She stopped in her tracks at the sight. There was a table and two chairs, and what looked like a bucket with a wine bottle chilling on ice, or maybe it was champagne? She hadn't walked far when she spotted the picnic basket setting off to the side.

"It's perfect, Michael," she grinned.

He raised his eyebrows, and smiled as he moved to pull out her chair.

The wind picked up, and once again she was shivering in her thin dress, hoping he didn't notice. She didn't want anything to spoil their night together under the stars.

"Hold on a second," he said and disappeared around the corner leaving her wondering what he was up to now.

He came back with a blanket and put it around her shoulders.

"We can't have you getting too cold; I might have to warm you up again. And this time I might use an entirely different method," he teased.

Sara felt her cheeks flush at the images racing through her overactive mind. And then he was grabbing the bottle out of the bucket.

"Champagne?"

She nodded, knowing her face was going to be sore from smiling so much, but she didn't care.

He popped the cork and poured some into the glasses.

He handed her one and then pulled his chair closer to hers.

"Should we toast?" She asked, not really knowing what to toast to.

"Sure, how about we make a toast to the rain?" And then he looked up at the sky as if it would tempt the Gods somehow.

"Not that we want it to rain tonight, but I don't think I would mind it as much after spending the night with you." His eyes met hers, taking her breath away, his words leaving her speechless.

When she could speak again, "To the rain." 

They touched glasses and she took a sip, the bubbles tickling her nose as they always did when she drank champagne. This was so perfect she didn't want it to end.

He reached and took the glass from her hand.

"So now what?" She couldn't help asking as she eyed the picnic basket. She was suddenly starving. 

"Now we eat."

Michael set the picnic basket aside and then headed off around the corner again. Sara just shook her head smiling and stayed seated. She had decided to stop trying to second guess him and just let him surprise her, as he had done so far this night.

Sara knew she had an early class the next morning, but she was in no hurry to get home. The blanket Michael had given her was still draped over her shoulders and she was toasty warm, and content. And God was she ever full! Michael had packed so much food in the picnic basket, and they had eaten most of it. Sara thought maybe she wouldn't have to eat for a week.

She eyed the grapes remaining on her plate and pushed it aside. And then he was back. Sara watched as he set the portable radio down and started pushing buttons.

Soon soft music was drifting out of the speakers. Michael walked the few steps to where she was sitting and held out his hand.

"I promise we won't be interrupted this time."

Sara met his smoky eyes, and then without saying a word she slipped her hand into his, letting the blanket fall down around her shoulders as he pulled her into his arms.

He held her close as he moved next to her, the black shirt he wore rolled up at the sleeves, leaving his tattoos free for the moonlight's kiss.

She loved the feel of his body hard against hers, the touch of his fingers caressing her.

Her head was spinning from the champagne, or maybe the even more potent man she was melded to in this parody of dance. As they were no longer really moving, except for their hands and his lips; they seemed drawn to the very spot that had left her weak the night before.

And then he trailed his hot kisses along her neck to her jaw sucking lightly, driving her crazy, as he made his way lazily to her mouth. His mouth was hot against hers, his tongue dipping into her mouth demandingly as the kiss began and instantly grew heated.

His hands were now on her hips pulling her into him and she could feel every inch of him; his long body against hers.

And then he was backing up, his lips never leaving hers.

He pulled away just long enough to sweep everything off the table and then his hands were hot against her, as he lifted her up and plopped her down on the table.

She let her legs fall open and he stepped closer, between her thighs, his hands moving behind her pulling her towards him. She felt him hard against her panties as her dress rode up and all the while his mouth so hot kept her breathless, speechless with wanting. She knew she should stop things now, stop them before it was too painful to do so, but he felt so good.

His hands were lifting her dress higher and the cool wind touched her thighs sending a chill through her flushed skin.

"Michael, we have to stop, Michael, please I can't…"

He pulled away, his forehead moving to press against hers as he caught his breath. He didn't say anything, but she knew he wanted more. She wanted more. But the time wasn't right. She hadn't planned to let things go so far, so soon with him. She knew now she had just been kidding herself. She knew she should have packed her purse full of condoms. 

She opened her mouth to ask if he had any on him, but then closed it unsure whether she wanted to know the answer to that question. Unsure if she was ready to hear that this had been a part of his plan too.

"Maybe we should just head home?" She said softly.

He pulled away and walked a few steps, his back to her as he looked out at the night sky.

"Michael?" 

She was afraid that he was angry with her, though she wasn't sure why, maybe because he was so quiet?

Sara jumped down off the table and adjusted her dress. She felt the chill of the wind and grabbed the blanket intending to wrap it around her for warmth, but froze with it in her hands when he turned around.

He walked to her and taking the blanket from her hands, he put it around her shoulders.

"Come on I'll take you home."


	16. Chapter 16

The walk to the car was made in silence, but once inside he turned to her.

"I'm sorry, Sara. I didn't mean to take things further then you were comfortable with… I really wanted this to be special… and then I went and fucked it up."

His eyes had moved to the steering wheel as he spoke.

"I guess it's because I've never done anything like this before, I mean planned a date. I've never really had to… I've never had to try so hard."

Sara looked at him in the dark car. So he thought he had messed up?

"Michael you don't have to try so hard. I loved this, but dinner and a movie would have been okay too. It wasn't about where we went tonight; I just wanted to be with you."

He looked up at her meeting her eyes. "I wanted to do this. I guess I've never really wanted to make things special for someone before now. But you're different Sara. I want you to know that. I wanted to show you that. Then I went and…I let it go too far."

Sara reached and took his hand. "I was there too, Michael. I let it happen too. I wanted it just as much as you…well almost as much."

She felt her cheeks flush at her honesty. He laughed; a low warm sound that filled her ears. And then He squeezed her hand and brought it to his warm lips.

Sara took a deep breath thinking if there ever was a time to do this, it was now. She opened her mouth to tell him and then closed it. She had never felt strange about her sexual inexperience before, but with Michael things were different. Maybe because he was so experienced?

He kissed her hand one last time and then let it go.

"Let's go home, okay?"

She nodded, silently kicking herself for her cowardice. But it was too late; the window of opportunity had closed. She sighed softly and leaned back in her seat telling herself she would tell him…And if not? Well maybe she would surprise him for once.

XXXXX

Sara stepped from the shower and glanced at her watch. She was going to be late for her first class if she wasn't careful. She had had a hard time getting out of bed that morning, so now she was having to rush through her morning routine.

While it hadn't been all that late when she and Michael came home from their date, once back at the apartment, one of them, she couldn't remember if it were she or maybe it had been Michael, had suggested they put on some coffee.

They had sat talking well into the night about anything and everything that popped into their heads. they had started out with their likes and dislikes, but then their conversation had moved on to more serious things. And though she could tell it hadn't been easy for him to open up to her, he had.

She closed her eyes now and fought back the pain that filled her as she recalled his words, his confession that his father had never really been there for him; never supported his dream to be a singer.

And that even though his father had supported the family financially, he had been too busy to make time for his son and daughter.

Sara blinked back the threat of tears, and scraped a hand across the foggy mirror. She knew this wasn't the time to think about such things, not if she was going to make it to class on time, but she couldn't help it. It seemed the more she knew about Michael, the more she cared.

She cranked on the sink and splashed her face with cold water trying to clear her head and get back on task; said task being to get to class on time so she could avoid the angry glare of her professor.

She was brushing her teeth when she realized she had forgotten her clothes. She rinsed quickly and tightened her towel with determination.

Okay, so she might run into Michael in the hall, in a towel. Big deal, she could handle that, right?

She took a breath and stepped out. The hall was empty.

She was thinking she was home free when he stepped from his room wearing only his boxers. He was obviously on his way to the bathroom, but stopped in his tracks when he saw her, a slow smile spreading across his face at the sight of her.

"Um, good morning," she managed despite her embarrassment.

"Good morning," he replied, his eyes traveling over her still moist skin.

"You're staring, Michael." She felt herself blushing under his hot stare.

He pulled his eyes from her body and up to her face.

"I can't help it, Sara. I love when you're all wet like that," he grinned sexily, his eyes dark with desire.

He stepped closer and stopped in front of her.

"Besides you owe me one remember?"

It took a moment for Sara to understand, but then her face turned an even brighter shade of crimson. He was referring to her ogling of him in the tent.

She didn't know what to say to that. It seemed she would never get used to his flirtatious comments.

After a beat she said the only thing she could think to say, "I'm going to be late for class, Michael, so I um, I'll see you later?"

She tried to walk passed him, but he grabbed her hand.

"Hey?"

Sara looked up at him questioningly.

"Last night was more than amazing. And I know I can be forward, like right now. But I loved spending time with you, talking to you."

Sara nodded. "I did too."

She wanted to kiss him so badly just then, his mouth was so near. But she knew his bedroom was even closer and she had a class to get to. And who was she kidding? She was still scared. It seemed the more she thought about actually being with Michael, the more anxious she became.

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Yep, you'll definitely see me later. Oh, wait I have gig tonight…You're coming...right?"

She nodded and smiled. But as he walked passed her she wondered how she could do this. How she could go to all of his gigs and still maintain the grades she needed to keep her scholarship.

She knew she would manage somehow, though, she had to. She had a feeling it was important to Michael that she be there, and she didn't want to be another person in his life who had let him down.

XXXXX

Sara arrived at the club later than she had hoped. She glanced over at the passenger seat, the stack of books that had held her captive sitting silently beside her, and sighed.

Michael's band had probably already played by now; she was pretty sure she had missed their entire set.

She slammed the car door and headed for the club entrance. She gave the doorman her name and he let her in free of charge, as always. Sara didn't recognize the band currently playing, but they were loud. The singer, a guy with the brightest red hair Sara had ever seen, was singing about puke stains on his pillowcase or some such thing.

Sara tuned them out and scanned the floor and tables surrounding the dance floor. Not seeing Michael or Heather she headed towards the back of the club. She hesitated outside the closed door for just half a second, and then telling herself she was being silly she pushed it open.

She was met with laughter and cigarette smoke tinged with the sweeter smell of pot smoke. She looked around and there he was, a beer in his hand sitting by himself in a chair facing away from the door.

She made her way to him and dropped a hand onto his shoulder. He looked up at her a little glassy eyed, and Sara was pretty sure he was either stoned or drunk, maybe even both.

"Sorry I'm so late. I had a paper to finish, and I kind of lost track of time." She explained.

"Come 'ere" he said simply, and pulled her onto his lap.

Sara landed on his denim clad legs and leaned against his chest, snaking her arm around his waist. His face was so close to hers, and his eyes, heavy lidded filled her with warmth.

"Hey," he said softly, a smile on his lips.

"Hey yourself," she repeated her eyes trapped in his.

"Want some?" He indicated his beer.

"Uh, huh."

But instead of taking the beer she cupped his face and did what she had wanted to do all day. His lips parted for her and the hotness of him sent a spear of warmth through her leaving her breathless.

He pulled away a little and then downed the beer, before tossing the empty aside.

He pulled her close and his mouth was more demanding; more insistent, cool and tasting of beer.

She felt his hands travel over her stroking her body like an instrument, playing her expertly with his long fingers. She moaned a little at his touches and then pulled away, having to remind herself that they were not alone in the room.

"Michael…um, we're not alone."

He was nuzzling her neck, his now hot mouth sending shivers, making it difficult for her to think coherently.

"Uh, huh," his answer was followed by another kiss.

She gave into it and pressed her body to his, loving the hardness of his chest against her aching flesh. Then he was pulling away, breathless, his heart pounding hard against her.

"I missed you," his voice was deep and full of a need that fueled Sara's.

"I missed you too." She spoke a whisper meant only for him.

"We should get out of here." His fingers moved a hot trail down her arm, in a single gesture promising to explore every inch of her.

Sara felt her heart pound as panic gripped her and then Heather's voice filled the room.

"I should probably say hey to Heather. I mean since I just got here."

She went to stand up, but his arm was locked around her waist, making her look at him.

"What's going on here, Sara? I mean we keep getting one step away from this and then you take two steps back."

Sara shook her head.

"Um, I don't know, um I just…"

"Sara!" Heather leaned in and hugged her.

She felt Michael's arm move from around her and used the opportunity to stand.

Sara heard Heather going on about a girl they went to school with passing out in front of the stage earlier and how Sara had missed it, and then she was tuning Heather out.

Sara looked to Michael. He was staring at her. She knew he was confused by her actions, but if she told him she was a virgin, then what?

"Sara, are you even listening to me?"

Sara focused on her friend. "Um, yeah…I mean I think I was, what were you saying?"

Heather sighed and started her story over.

Sara tried to concentrate on what Heather was saying, but her mind was on Michael. She knew she either had to tell him, or give into what he wanted; what she wanted.  
Either way, she knew she couldn't just keep turning things on and off anymore. It wasn't fair to either of them.


	17. Chapter 17

Sara watched as Heather and Lincoln left the backstage area. They had their arms wrapped possessively around each other's waists as they walked, and Sara couldn't help but feel a little envious of how easy they made the whole thing look.

She sighed and looked over at Michael who had downed another three or four beers as she stood talking to Heather. She longed for the day when they could be like that, when going home with Michael wouldn't fill her with such anxiety.

She wasn't sure what she was so afraid of where Michael was concerned. She knew he was sincere. He had proven that. It wasn't like she believed anymore that he was just after a piece of ass. A guy like Michael didn't have to try so hard to get laid, girls practically lined up for it.

No, that wasn't why she was apprehensive. She was just afraid she wouldn't measure up to all of the girls he had been with. If she were to be honest with herself, that was the real reason behind her anxiety. That and just good old fashioned fear of the unknown.

She cleared her throat as she approached him, hoping to alert him to her presence. He was leaning back in the chair with his eyes closed.

"Michael?"

His sleepy eyes opened a little.

"Hmmm? Sara, hey."

She realized from the slurring of his words, that he was pretty drunk.

"Michael, come on, I'm going to take you home now, okay?"

He opened his eyes a little more.

"Um, yeah, okay…we need to talk about, um…"

Sara helped him up, his body leaning heavily against her.

"Sure, Michael when we get home though, okay?"

His arm went around her pulling her closer.

"K, just a second."

He was reaching for his unfinished beer.

"Ahh, no, Michael, you've had enough for one night, okay? Let's just get you home. What do say?"

He leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips.

"Yeah, okay…You're really beautiful, Sara… you know that?"

She led him away from the beer, the door looking too far away.

And as he leaned heavily against her, she couldn't help thinking that while this wasn't exactly ideal, he would most likely pass out in the car, and she would be able to postpone the inevitable conversation for one more day.

XXXXX

Sara pushed up from the table and glared at her much hated books. She just wanted to go home, collapse onto the sofa and sleep a straight twelve hours.

She knew she was seriously pushing herself. She wasn't getting enough sleep and she wasn't eating well either. Most of her meals lately had been meals of convenience. In fact the best meal she had had was Michael's over indulgent rooftop picnic.

Sara sighed as she thought again about that night and the near perfect memory she held close in her heart. It was the most romantic date she had ever had; most likely ever would have. She knew Michael had put a great deal of thought into it, and it sent a thrill through her even now that he thought her so special. She knew only one thing could have made it more special…being with him.

She sighed again as her thoughts turned to the previous night at the club. As she had predicted, Michael had passed out in the short time it took to get back to the apartment.

After helping him to bed, Sara had avoided his groping hands and slipped out the door with a sigh of relief. The next morning she had gotten an early start, the sole purpose being to avoid a morning confrontation. But now the time had come. She would have to head back to the apartment; to Michael.

She closed her tired eyes for a moment, and then grabbing her books she headed towards the exit.

What with her mind being elsewhere, Sara wasn't looking where she was going. She didn't even see Paul until she was plowing into him, hard, sending his books flying from his hands.

"Oh, God, Paul, I'm so sorry!" She said a bit too loudly for the library.

She heard a loud "Shhh," from somewhere and lowered her voice.

"Are you okay?"

He looked up at her with a grin, his periwinkle eyes dancing.

"Yeah, I'm okay, couldn't be better."

His eyes grew concerned as he studied her.

"What about you? I mean, you look tired, Sara. You're not working too hard are you?"

"I'm fine, Paul, really." Sara tried to laugh off his concern, but he saw right through it.

"Hey, I know that um, you've been busy, but I miss having you around to complain to. I have some serious professor hate built up and no one to vent with," he joked.

"I was just on my way out to grab a bite to eat. What do you say…come along and we can play catch up?"

Sara looked at him for a minute, and then nodded.

"Sure why not?"

She knew it wasn't a good idea before the words had even left her mouth. And though she could use the excuse that she really did need to eat something, Sara knew this for what it was, she had found yet another way to avoid talking to Michael.

XXXXX

She could smell it as soon as she walked through the door, the delicious aroma making her mouth water despite the fact she was stuffed full of broiled chicken and blueberry pie.

She shut the door and slipped out of her shoes. The room was dim but she could see him sitting there on the sofa. He had waited up for her.

"Hey," her voice was soft but she knew he could hear her.

"Hey."

She couldn't really read his voice. Was he upset?

She made her way to the sofa and slipped onto the seat beside him.

"It smells good in here; lasagna?"

He nodded, but didn't look at her.

"You made me dinner didn't you?"

He finally turned to her, his eyes stony.

"Yeah, I did. It's still edible if you want some."

He got up and went to his room, shutting the door none too gently behind him.

Sara let out her breath as her eyes fell on the clock, it was almost midnight

She couldn't believe she had messed up so badly. She had only wanted to avoid his questions and now she had gone and pissed him off.

She got up and made her way to the kitchen. She pushed open the door, the candles lighting the room sending a glow over the finely laid out table. He had made her a romantic dinner and she had missed it.

She sighed and flipped on the light. She made her way to the candles and blew them out one by one. And then sinking down onto a chair, she put her face into her hands. This was such a mess! She had made it a mess. She wanted to be with him so much, and yet she was ruining it with her insecurities.

She pushed her hair out of her eyes, and stood with determination. She was going to go to him. She would explain somehow. She would make him understand and if it ended with them in bed?

She squeezed her eyes closed and took a deep breath. She opened them and her eyes fell on the full glass of wine. She took it up and downed it. And then turning on her heels she left the kitchen and headed for Michael's room.

"Hey", she said keeping her gaze level with his cool eyes, despite the allure of the sheet slung low on his hips.

He had obviously been in bed when she knocked on his door.

He didn't say anything, just swung the door open wide and walked back into the room. Sara followed him in and closed the door softly behind her. When she turned around he was sitting on the bed staring at her.

She was nervous, but she knew it was time to come clean. She looked at him sitting there barely dressed and all she could think was how foolish she had been. So what if she was inexperienced? Guys liked virgins didn't they?

She took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Michael. I mean I didn't know you had planned dinner, and I didn't realize it had gotten so late. I had tons of research to do and then a friend stopped into the library and we had a late dinner. I am so sorry, Michael." She repeated looking at him beseechingly. She was twisting her hands as she spoke, but made herself stop.

He was still looking at her, his eyes less cool, not exactly warm, but at least he was listening, and maybe warming up?

She walked closer and sat next to him on the bed.

"I know I've been acting strange about us. I mean hot and cold. I've let things heat up between us and then pulled the plug on more than one occasion."

He shook his head. "Sara, this wasn't an attempt to get you into bed tonight. I just wanted for us to talk. Have a nice dinner, a bottle of wine. And maybe talk about us and what's going on."

She nodded. "I know, Michael, but for some reason I have had a hard time talking to you about this."

She looked down at her hands noticing how red they had become from her nervous twisting, and placed her palms flat on her thighs. And then feeling his eyes on her face, she looked up again.

"Michael, I've never… um, I'm a virgin, Michael. I've never done this before."

She looked away from his eyes and back down at her hands. He reached out and eased a finger under her chin lifting her face level with his own. She met his eyes again.

"Sara, you could have just told me, I mean I'm not after sex here. I want you. Yeah, I want sex, I won't lie. But I want…I want more than that. I don't mind waiting a while. I just…I want to know where we stand, that this isn't some kind of game for you."

Sara reached out and took his hands in her own.

"It's not a game, Michael, I want you too. I want you now."

She reached a hand to the sheet at his waist and loosened it. But he grabbed her hand stopping her before she could push the sheet from his body.

"Are you sure, Sara?"

She nodded.

"I've never been so sure about something in my life."

His eyes still questioning, he pulled her closer.

The sheet at his waist fell away and Sara pressed against him. He held her for a moment, his fingers stroking her hair, his eyes gentle, but darkening with arousal. And then his mouth was on hers, soft but not without passion, as if he were trying to go slow, but containing his desire was almost painful.

Sara kissed him back, his slow kisses fueling the warmth within her that was always present in his company, as she dipped her tongue into his mouth tasting him. She felt his soft caresses grow more heated as their tongues collided. And then his fingers were on the buttons of her blouse expertly undoing them one by one until the cool air hit her lacy black bra.

She pulled him closer pressing against his inked skin, the heat of his body searing against her tender flesh. And then with a flick of his wrist her bare breasts were hot against him, aching to be closer. He made haste with her jeans and pulled her under the sheet with him.

He felt so good next to her, she could barely breathe. And it felt right too. It felt the way it should feel, heart pounding; breath coming fast, but without fear. She let her hands move over him delighting in the feel of his skin and the gasps she brought from his parted lips with her caresses.

He eased up her body, leaving a trail of wet kisses, in his wake, and she gasped lightly, still feeling a bit shy, but unable to hold back as the sensations of his lips moved through her.

She felt a gentle but insistent tug on her panties and then he was caressing her hips with his palms as he eased them down. She knew he was trying to be gentle, to not rush things.

"Its okay, Michael, I promise I won't break."

Her words were still hanging in the air when his hungry mouth crashed down on hers, pulling her lips into his mouth feeding his hunger. His hands no longer so gentle pulled her tight against him in his need to feel her pressed against his hardness.

She could feel how much he wanted her and spread her thighs wider as she urged him inside her. He pressed into her his tip sending a gasp from her parted lips. And then he was pulling away.

Without a word he rolled off of her. She was opening her mouth in protest when she saw him pulling open the drawer beside his bed. She heard a crinkle as he tore into the condom wrapper and then he was back between her wet thighs.

He leaned in and kissed her, his eyes so full, so dark with desire, his breath so fast.

He pulled back and let his hot eyes roam over her once more and then followed the visual trail with his mouth, sucking and teasing her.

She arched her back into him, pushing herself closer to his hot mouth as he took a nipple in scraping it lightly with his teeth, every stroke sending waves of pleasure, making her melt against him.

Oh, God how could something feel so good?

She pulled him closer to her, her lips sucking his neck making his breath come even faster as a small moan left his lips.

"Oh, God Sara, you feel so good," he whispered, and he hadn't even entered her yet.

She cupped his ass in her hands and wrapped herself around him telling him she was more than ready. And then he was pushing inside her.

She felt a shooting pain at the largeness of him, but it was followed by such pleasure.

She thrust against him as he moved, matching his rhythm stroke for stroke. He was trying to go slow, but she urged him on, his body filling her, taking her so close.

She felt his exploring fingers on her breasts and then his hot mouth and tongue. She knew it was happening, she was going to come. And then he slowed, teasing her with his movements.

She pulled his mouth to hers and delved into him, her mouth ravenous as she could take no more. And then her pleasure was coursing hotly through her sending her thighs a quiver, her muscles clenching him tightly as she moaned his name.

She heard him moan and then he was joining her in their release, his breath hot against her neck.

He collapsed against her, his mouth softly kissing her as the sweat dried on their bodies.

She reached and ran her fingers over his closely cropped head and then pulled his face up until they were locking eyes.

"You sure you've never done this before?"

She smiled softly followed by a low, throaty, confident laugh.

"Never. I guess I have a lot of lost time to make up for, huh?"

He grinned and pulled her close.

"Give me a few minutes and I can help you out with that."

He kissed her softly and as she pressed her bare breasts against him tightly, she reached under the sheet.

"A few minutes, huh?"

He shrugged.

"Guess not. Come 'ere."

She giggled as he lips found her neck. But as his mouth moved lower her laughter was replaced by soft moans.


	18. Chapter 18

Sara's eyes came open slowly, the early morning sun brighter then it should be, and her sleep fogged mind refusing the significance of what this should mean.

Usually when she awoke there was just the hint of a sun present.

She closed her eyes tiredly, but they shot open at the realization of where she was, and with whom.

She turned over and there he was, just as beautiful as the night before. She stared at the ink on his skin, the skin she had explored with tongue; with fingers, with every part of her being, and felt the warmth build in her cheeks and spread throughout her body at the memory.

And then she looked at the clock. It was almost 10:00. She had slept through two of her classes.

She sighed softly, some of the good feelings of what she and Michael had shared into the wee hours of the morning fading to be replaced by guilt.

She didn't want to leave him, not without saying goodbye, but she knew she should go, that if she were to let this happen today who was to say she wouldn't continue to blow off her classes?

She leaned over and placed her lips on his neck, a small kiss in hopes of awakening him.

His breathing changed and he moaned a little, causing her breath to catch in her throat. She looked at the clock again and sighed. Just this once?

She looked around on the floor and then grabbed up her blouse that had been discarded in haste the night before. She laid it carefully over the clock covering the hateful digits that glaringly reminded her of her responsibilities.

That taken care of she slid closer to Michael and kissed his neck again.

His eyes opened sleepily. "Hey."

She smiled into his eyes. "Hey, yourself."

He pulled her closer and into his arms.

"You have class, right?"

She shook her head, her lips already tracing the pattern on his chest.

"I'm sick today," she faked a cough, and laid her head across his chest; her soft hair a blanket of silk against his skin.

She could feel as well as hear his laughter as it vibrated against her cheek.

"Sick, huh? Well, Maybe I can make you feel better?"

She grinned and lifted her head.

"I dunno, I feel really bad, it might take some time."

He grinned back. "I have all day."

He flipped her over onto her back and at the feel of him against her, she knew he was more then ready.

Her breath was already coming fast, but as his lips found her she was left breathless. He kissed her gently one last time and then rolled off of her, only to urge her onto her stomach.

And then taking her hands in his, he raised them above her head.

She giggled nervously.

"What are you up to?"

He shushed her with his lips and tongue as he left a sweet trail along her spine, making a shiver of pleasure course through her in it's wake.

She felt his kisses move along her body and moaned softly. And as he eased her back onto her back she promised herself that this wouldn't happen again; she wouldn't miss another class.

But as she moaned and gasped, her last coherent thought was of what 'Dr.' Michael could teach her this morning of indulgence... all else was forgotten.

The sweat had cooled on their bodies and both of them lay spent in each other's arms.

Sara's head was once again resting on his chest. And she was pretty sure she would be content to stay like this forever; in his arms.

As her fingertips traced along his tattoos she found herself wondering about them; what had inspired each and every detailed image?

She was opening her mouth to ask him about them when he spoke.

"What's your middle name?"

This question was so out of the blue it took her a moment to answer him.

Her middle name?

"Um, it's um Angela...after my mother."

She felt his lips touch her hair in a gentle kiss. And then, taking her silence to mean something, "I'm sorry, I mean I didn't mean to make you sad. I just realized we don't know a whole lot about one another."

"It's okay. I mean, my mom died a long time ago, Michael."

"But you still miss her..."

Sara smiled softly against his chest. "I'll always miss her. The sad thing is, my dad will never let her go. And every year on the anniversary of her death, it's like she's left him all over again. I think maybe that's why I have always had a hard time getting close to anyone in the past. Because I've seen how it can break a heart beyond repair to lose someone you love."

As soon as these words were spoken, she wished she could pull them back out of the air.

Michael was quiet, so she looked up at him, her eyes questioning. Had she shared too much, too soon?

He reached and moved the hair from her face.

And then cupping her cheek in his hand, "I'll never leave you, Sara. I promise."

And as his lips fell on hers in a gentle kiss, Sara couldn't help but think that though he hadn't said I love you, it was there in these words; in his promise...and even more so in his sweet kiss.

XXXXX

Sara slapped her face lightly. She was falling asleep again. This would make twice today she had found herself dozing off. The first time was during a lecture. The glare of her Professor had been enough to carry her through the rest of the day's classes without incident, but now that she was alone in the quiet library she found herself nodding off again.

She sighed softly and vowed that tonight she would get some sleep. Even if it meant sleeping on the ratty old sofa again.

She had spent every night this week sleeping in Michael's bed. Well not so much sleeping as...but then that was the problem, wasn't it?

She yawned and pushed her hand through her hair. Of course tomorrow was Friday night and she would have the whole weekend to catch up on sleep.

She knew she was terrible. The very thought of a night spent without Michael shouldn't leave her with an ache she couldn't even attempt to describe.

And she was distracted too. Even days later she would find herself daydreaming about things he had said; about how he would never leave her. And then she would ask herself if she hadn't simply heard something that wasn't really there.

Had it merely been pillow talk?

She sighed now and forced her eyes back to the reference book in front of her. She had to get something done today. If she didn't her weekend would be pretty much set. And the thought of spending hours at the library when she could be with Michael was beyond painful.

(Friday)

Sara jumped at the sound of the front door slamming. Michael who was asleep beside her was obviously a much heavier sleeper then she, as he hadn't even stirred. She nudged him lightly with her hand.

"Hmm...what...what's wrong?"

"I don't know," she whispered back uncertainly.

Had she dreamed it?

"Sara, it's late...what's goin on?"

"I don't know maybe I just imagined it or something, but I thought I heard the door slam a few seconds ago."

Michael looked passed her to the clock. "It's after 3:00, Sara. Who would be slamming the door?"

Their eyes met in the darkened room.

"Shit!"

Michael jumped out of bed and pulled on the jeans she had helped him out of a couple of hours earlier, after their return home from a night out at the club.

Sara watched him for a second and then jumped up and started dressing too, the rest of the night's events coming back to her, increasing her suspicions.

Jason had been at the club that night. And he had insisted on speaking to Heather despite the fact that she was obviously with Lincoln.

It had ended with Heather coming back to the table pretending nothing had happened. Heather had filled Sara in on the conversation in the ladies room a short while later. It seemed Jason was sorry he had broken up with Heather, and he wanted her back.

When they returned from the bathroom it had been Sara's turn to pretend like nothing had happened. But as she watched Lincoln fume silently the rest of the night she could tell he hadn't been fooled by Heather's act.

Sara hadn't been in the least bit surprised when a short while later, Heather begged a ride home with them claiming she had a headache. The last they had seen of Heather was when she was heading off to bed. Sara figuring that her friend just needed some time to think things through hadn't mentioned anything to Michael.

Now as she followed Michael out into the dark living room she wondered if Heather had made plans to meet with Jason.

She stopped behind Michael careful not to bump into him as he flipped on the light, momentarily blinding them with it's glare. When their eyes had adjusted he made his way to Heather's room, and pushed open the door to the empty room.

He swore quietly under his breath and pulled the door closed none too gently.

Sara took a step back and cleared her throat. "Um, Michael, Heather might be meeting up with Jason."

She watched his face harden in disbelief.

"What? No way. She's too smart to go back to that piece of shit."

After a beat... " Did she say something to you about this?"

Sara shook her head. "No, no of course not. But she did say that Jason wanted her back...and that she wasn't sure what she wanted to do."

Michael's jaw tightened. And then he sat down heavily on the sofa.

Sara knew he was worried about his sister, but there really wasn't anything they could do. Heather as an adult had every right to do what ever she pleased. And even if they all knew it was a huge mistake it was her own to make.

Sara walked quietly to him and sat down on the sofa.

"She'll be okay, Michael."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know." He swiped a hand over his face and then stood up.

"Come on, let's just go back to bed, okay?"

She nodded and stood up to follow him.

Once back in the room they quietly undressed and climbed back into bed.

Sara lay in silence until she thought she couldn't take it anymore; lying so close, but yet so far.

And then she edged closer to him in the dark and lay her head on his chest, just wanting to offer him comfort.

Still not saying anything, Michael leaned and kissed her hair gently in response.

And as they lay silently in each others arms, it was quite a while before either of them found asleep.

(Chapter End Notes:)

This will be my last post for a bit. I am leaving on vacation May 4th and won't be back till the 9th.


	19. Chapter 19

Sara awoke to find Michael's beautiful blue eyes staring at her. She felt self conscience for a moment at his perusal and wiped a hand across her face, knocking her hair over her eyes in the process.

How long had he been staring at her like that? She hoped she hadn't drooled at some point. She smiled softly at him as he reached and stroked her hair back from her face.

"How long have you been watching me sleep?"

She reached and pulled his hand to her lips for a kiss.

"A little while. Sara, listen, I'm sorry if I was…I'm sorry about last night. It's just that Heather and I…I've always been the one who looked out for her; ever since we were kids. We never really had anyone else. Our parents were always too busy with everything but us."

"Its okay, Michael, I mean I love how close you are with your sister. I wouldn't have you any other way. Seeing how you are with Heather is part of what made me realize just how special you are."

He was moving in close when the door slammed making him pull back.

They listened quietly as Heather giggled and then they heard Lincoln's voice. Sara met Michael's surprised but relieved eyes.

"Do you think?"

He nodded and grinned. "Come on, let's go find out."

They climbed from beneath the warm sheets and began dressing.

Sara stood holding her t-shirt just watching him for a moment. He was so amazing. He caught her looking and smiled.

"Stop looking at me like that or we won't be going anywhere, Tancredi".

She grinned at him. "Promise?"

He laughed and pulled his t-shirt over his head.

"Come on."

She hurriedly finished dressing and followed him out to the sound of Heather and Lincoln's laughter.

XXXXX

Sara chewed the last bite of her bagel and leaned back on the sofa.

She smiled as she listened to Michael and Lincoln's banter. She loved listening to them razz each other.

Michael who had been teasing Lincoln about his love of retro leather pants for the last minute or so was now sitting back laughing as Linc teased him about being the illustrated man.

Sara joined in with their laughter, but hopped up when Heather motioned to her from the kitchen. She had been dying to get her friend alone to find out what was up.

She followed Heather into the kitchen and shut the door behind them.

"So what's up? Come on, spill it, Scofield," she grinned.

Heather laughed. "Nothing's up. I just realized some things last night, that's all. I realized that I'm over Jason. And I also realized that Lincoln is more than just hot sex. I really do care about him, Sara." She said this in a low voice as if afraid he might over hear.

"That's really great, Heather. I'm so happy for the two of you." Sara hugged her tightly.

"So, you and Mike? I mean the way he looks at you, Sara. Wow!"

Sara smiled. "I look at him the same way, if you haven't noticed."

Heather nodded. "I noticed. You guys are so cute! All goo goo eyed over each other and everything," she teased.

Sara made a face. "We are not goo goo eyed. I mean what does that even mean? Sounds like an infection!"

They were both laughing as Heather pushed open the kitchen door to go join the guys.

XXXXX

(Two weeks later)

Sara yawned and made her way passed the reference desk. She was making her way to the back of the library to meet the study group Paul had put together.

She took a sip of the scalding coffee she clutched in one hand as she lugged her text books tightly against her chest. She felt them slipping and wished she hadn't been in such a rush that morning. If she had only taken the time to shove them into her book bag she wouldn't be juggling them right now. But she seemed always in a rush these days.

She sighed softly as she made her way around the corner, the table Paul had procured for them coming into view.

As she approached Paul looked up with a smile.

"Hey, Sara."

He jumped up as her books slid again and grabbed some of them before she could lose her grip.

"Thanks, Paul." She looked around at the empty table.

"And here I was worried I would be late. It looks like I'm the first to arrive."

She smiled at him warmly.

"Ah, well actually I had some cancellations. I mean you and I are pretty much it tonight."

He shrugged.

"I guess Professor Mahone doesn't scare half as many as you might think. I know he scares the hell outta me when he gets all shaky and goes for those pills." Paul joked.

Sara laughed. "Well, who needs them? Tomorrow when he goes ballistic at least we won't be the target."

Sara settled down at the table and opened her book. She was leafing through it to find the right page, her bookmark having been lost somewhere along the way. She found her place and looked up to see Paul studying her, a small smile on his lips that left her curious.

"What?"

He shook his head in hesitation, but then, "I'm just concerned about you, Sara. I mean…"

He sighed and rifled through his book bag. He pulled out a paper and set it in front of her.

"You dropped this yesterday. I tried to catch up to you but you were already gone."

Sara looked down at her paper, the red ink glaring up at her. When her professor had returned it she had felt a panic begin in her chest and work its way to her stomach. Now she felt embarrassment that Paul had seen it. The paper had to be the worst grade she had received since grade school. She folded it and stuck it inside her book.

"Um, thanks, Paul, for um, returning it."

She felt his eyes on her. She looked up meeting them, the concern evident in his periwinkle eyes.

"I'm fine, Paul, really. I just…I met someone and I've been a bit distracted by the newness of…everything. But I have my priorities straight, and this paper is a one time thing. It was a definite wake up call."

Paul nodded. "This someone must be pretty special."

Sara smiled softly as she thought about Michael.

"Yeah, he is. He's really amazing and…You know what? We should do this. I mean let's get to work so we can get out of here at some point tonight."

Paul grinned. "Okay, but you have to let me buy you some pie after. I can't think of anyone who would benefit more from some of Joe's pie."

Sara shook her head and grinned. "Okay, it's a deal. Joe's pie sounds like heaven."

And it did. She knew she had been neglecting her friends lately, even Heather, she realized. She just didn't seem to have the time since she and Michael had hooked up. She made a silent vow that she would find a way to spend more time with them. And going for pie with Paul would be the first step.

She looked back at her book with new determination. Determination to get her life back on track. She would have to work a little harder, yes, but she could do this; she could have a relationship without giving up her friends and flunking any of her classes. She re-read the last sentence she had read and jotted a quick note in her pad.

She was hoping to get this done quickly. She knew Michael would be waiting up for her.

"Check this out."

Paul's voice broke the silence that had enveloped them for the last forty-five minutes. Sara leaned closer to him to see the text he was pointing out. She was about to comment when Michael set the bag on the table. She looked up in surprise.

"Michael, hey... I thought you had practice?"

"I did, but it ended early, so I thought I would swing by and bring you something to eat." He was speaking to her, but he was eying Paul coolly.

"Oh, um, Michael this is my friend Paul. Paul this is, um, Michael my um, my…"

"Boyfriend," Michael finished her attempt at a complete sentence.

Sara felt the tension at the table building by the second.

"Hey, how ya doin'?" Paul smiled and stuck out his hand.

Michael hesitated for a second, but then raised his hand from where it rested at his side. Sara watched as the two men shook hands. And then Michael was opening the bag. He brought out a sandwich and an apple.

"I thought you might be hungry. I only brought enough for two, but I can always grab something at home."

Sara realized he was about to leave and jumped up.

"No, Michael, wait."

She turned to Paul. "Let's take a break, okay? We'll meet back up in say," she looked at her watch, "half an hour?"

Paul nodded. "Yeah, sure, no problem. Take your time."

Sara shut her book and grabbed the sandwich and apple, shoving them into the bag.

"Let's go find someplace to sit."

She grabbed Michael's hand. When they were away from Paul she sat the bag down on a table and pulled out a chair. She then sat down and motioned for Michael to sit in the chair beside her.

XXXXX

"Michael, Paul is just a friend. I mean we never dated or anything."

He had been unpacking the bag but looked up at her words.

"It's no big deal, Sara. I mean, I admit when I first walked up and saw the two of you with your heads together I was a little jealous… But only because of the way he was looking at you...It's not you that I don't trust."

So Michael had noticed that Paul had a thing for her? What could she say to that? After all, he had tried to kiss her.

"He knows about you. That I have a boyfriend, I mean."

"Who me? So I'm you're boyfriend then?" He teased.

Sara laughed. "Yeah, you. I'm sorry I fumbled that up. I guess I just…I wasn't sure how you would feel about me calling you that? Stupid, huh?"

He shook his head. "Not stupid. Crazy yes, but not stupid."

"Gee, thanks, I think. "She laughed in relief.

He grinned and leaned in for a soft kiss taking her breath away.

"Ahem, I think we should probably eat," her voice was low and not just because of where they were. She suddenly couldn't wait to get him alone.

He pulled the wrapper from his sandwich.

"Uh, huh, or we could just forget about food and find a nice little corner somewhere and…" Letting her fill in the blanks he smiled wickedly and took a bite of his sandwich.

Sara felt her cheeks grow hot at the visual of the two of them locked in each other's arms amongst the huge shelves of reference books. She swallowed hard and took a bite of her own sandwich.

The problem was she could almost see herself doing something like that with Michael. He was just so damn tempting.

He took a chug of the bottled water in front of him and set it aside.

"Seriously though, what time do you think you'll finish up here?"

"Um, I don't know a few hours I guess? Oh, I almost forgot. I promised Paul I would get some pie with him. He's really big on pie." She tried to joke her way through it, but she saw his jaw tighten a little.

"Pie, huh?"

"Yeah he seems to think it's a cure all or something."

Michael was studying her. "And what exactly do you need a cure for?"

"Ah, it's nothing… I just got a bad grade and he thought it would cheer me up, that's all," she said picking at the crust on her sandwich.

She winced at the ice surrounding his next words.

"You didn't mention a bad grade to me. But you mentioned it to Paul?"

She hadn't mentioned her grade to Michael because he was the reason for her lack of concentration, and her lack of concentration was to blame for her bad grade. She hadn't wanted it to seem like she was blaming him.

"I just got the paper back yesterday and we were busy with stuff and…I guess I just didn't want to talk about it. I mean I didn't want it to mess things up…bring everyone down. And after dinner I guess it just slipped my mind?"

They had all gone to dinner the night before, her, Michael, Heather and Lincoln.

"Sara, you can tell me anything, you know? I mean I want you tell me if something good happens to you, or if something's bothering you. And I know it has to bother you that you got a bad grade. I don't care what it screws up. You're more important then a night out with friends."

Sara nodded. "I know, I'm sorry I just…"

He leaned in and took her hands in his. "Let's make each other a promise, okay? We don't keep important things from each other. I want us to share everything, good or bad."

Sara felt her eyes mist up. "Okay, I promise."

He leaned in and kissed her gently before pulling back.

"We'd better eat so you can get back, before your pal Paul decides to throw a pie at me."

Sara shushed him and giggled softly.


	20. Chapter 20

(Two weeks later)

Sara lifted her head, the sound of his deep breathing filling her ears. She rested her head against his skin and sighed in contentment with the knowledge that it was a Saturday morning and she could lie here all morning if she liked.

Sure she knew she owed some time to her studies, but there would be time for that later. Right now she just wanted to lie here with him, his arm possessively draped around her waist even in slumber.

She sighed again and he stirred, her intention wasn't to awaken him just yet, as she loved the feel of his breath rising against her cheek. But she realized it was too late as his fingers spread through her hair. She knew how he loved running his fingers through it.

She lifted her head and smiled at him, his sleepy eyes smiling back.

"Hey you," his voice was deep from sleep and she felt the familiar heat flow through her body at the sound.

"Hey, yourself. I didn't mean to wake you so early."

They had been up rather late the night before Fluid Pain had played three sets instead of the normal one to two, keeping them out later than usual.

She turned and kissed his chest, a sweet kiss not really meant to start anything, but just for the joy of feeling his skin against her lips.

He pulled her lips up and kissed her gently in return, again not a passionate endeavor, but still it stirred feelings; made her want more.

She eased on top of him and rested her forehead lightly against his, her hands cupping his stubble covered face.

His arms wound around her pulling her closer and she lowered her mouth to his sweetly, each second increasing the heat within them both until their tongues met in a frenzied dance.

His hands traveled her body expertly, caressing and yet urging; teasing her senses with each stroke until her breath was coming fast.

And then he rolled their bodies until he rested between her thighs, the skin of his hips planted firmly, perfectly against her, while his lips explored her neck, sending shivers through her hot flesh.

He knew all of the right spots, as if memorized for her pleasure.

He pulled back and met her eyes, looking as if he wanted to say something. She gave him a questioning look, waiting for the words she had seen so many times in his eyes, but he had yet to voice.

Why was he so hesitant to say those three words? Why was she herself holding them back? But she knew. She was waiting for him.

His eyes were heavy, blue slits of sky filled with so much need; a need transcending the mere physical needs of a man.

She waited expectantly for a few beats and then he pulled away, his hand moving to the bedside drawer.

She let out her breath in disappointment for the words still left unspoken, but she could be patient. She listened as he tore open the small package and then he was back.

She welcomed him eagerly; her lips warm against his skin. And as he moved within her she knew; she knew the day would come soon when those three small, but immeasurable words would fall easily from his lips. And she would be only too happy to return them.

XXXXX

She lay against him, her heart beat finally returned to normal. It was almost noon and she still couldn't bring herself to move away from the heat of him.

She lifted her head reluctantly. "I have to get to up. If I don't get that paper finished I won't be able to come watch you tonight."

She sat up, the sheet falling away from her flushed skin. She felt his eyes travel over her and then he sat up and pulled her into his arms.

"Michael…I really have to go!"

But she was laughing as he pulled her back against his chest.

"Shhh…"

His fingers moved through her hair and she relaxed against him giving into the sensations of his fingers caressing her scalp. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes, thinking how multitalented his fingers seemed to be.

She felt a light kiss against the skin of her neck and then he leaned away.

His guitar was leaning against the nightstand and she ducked back as he brought it in front of them.

"What are you doing? "

"Teaching you," he smiled as he placed her hands around the instrument, and then his own hands covered hers in instruction.

She sat up straighter against his bare chest and wondered how she could even attempt to coax a semblance of song with his breath so close to her ear. But she was willing to try if it was what he wanted. Besides how many guitar lessons did one get while in bed with a gorgeous man?

She let him move her fingers to make a chord and then his voice so close walked her through it. She ran her fingers along the slick wood and met the strings.

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" She asked softly.

"It was perfect. Now watch."

His fingers moved over the strings expertly a song she had never heard filling the room. And his voice so close sang the words to a new song she had yet to hear.

"If I wake to find you near me... your soft breath next to mine-  
If I sleep to find you with me... a dream locked out of time.  
Will you walk along the shadows to find the sun; I know it's just around the bend?  
Will we never lose the way, and if we do begin again?  
Sara, I never could describe you, do you justice…  
Sara I never could deny you, give you everything you've missed. Sara..."

She felt her eyes fill as his song continued; his voice sweet and soft. And then she was silent against him in the quiet room, his voice run out of song.

"That was so…Michael." She turned in his arms, the guitar sliding unnoticed to the floor.

He smiled and pulled her close. "You liked it then?"

She nodded against him unable to say anything more.

He stroked her hair gently, and as they sat there together in each others arms she knew she would always remember this day; she would always hold it in a special place inside her heart.


	21. Chapter 21

Sara was running late. But her paper was finally finished and tucked safely away in her book bag. She made her way now to the entrance of the club and pushed open the door. In her haste she snagged her shoe on the door and almost fell. Swearing under her breath, she caught herself.

"You okay, Sara?"

"Yeah, thanks, Joe. I guess I need to slow down a little, huh?"

He laughed amiably and shook his head.

"That might be a good idea."

She laughed and then made her way towards the sound of Michael's voice. He was joking with the audience in between songs. She smiled at his quirkiness and headed to the table reserved for friends and family of the band. Michael was just leading into another song as she approached. She saw Heather's dark head begin to bob along to the music, and claimed the chair next to her.

Heather turned in her seat and smiled at her in greeting. Sara smiled back and leaned in to be heard.

"Sorry, I'm so late. But my paper is finally finished…Yay!"

Heather grinned and leaned in.

"You didn't miss much; they just went on about ten minutes ago!"

Sara nodded. She knew exactly how long the band had been playing. She had seen enough of Michael's sets to know which song followed which.

She let her eyes move to him now, his black shirt open, ink dark against the bright lights. In their time together she had learned about pretty much each and every image on his torso and arms. Some of them having significance, while others had just been something he had liked and had to have for no apparent reason. All of the tattoos were beautiful to Sara, because they were a part of him.

He met her eyes now and she saw his eyes light up at the sight of her sitting there. She didn't think she would ever tire of this; his silent greeting.

She smiled at him and raised her hand in a small wave. His smile widened, making his eyes dance. She laughed softly and then feeling someone's eyes upon her, Sara turned to find a woman looking at her intensely.

The woman was tall and blond, thin, and her full lips and high cheek bones made a striking combination. The woman met Sara's eyes boldly and then turned her gaze back to the stage where her eyes locked just as, if not more so, intently on Michael.

Sara frowned. Who was this woman and why was so interested in Michael? She looked to see if Heather had noticed the woman, but her friend was dancing in her chair completely oblivious to anything but the music. Sara let her eyes casually move back to where the woman had been sitting. But she was gone.

XXXXX

The set ended and a sweaty Michael pulled her into his arms. She let her hands move over him, not caring in the least, in fact his state only made her want to be closer to him.

He kissed her gently and spun her around before letting her go.

"I was afraid you wouldn't come tonight. But I'm glad I was wrong."

He grinned and picked up his sister's drink downing it in one gulp.

"Hey!" Heather said, but she was laughing. I'm adding up all the mooched drinks bro, and one of these days…" She tried for a menacing look but it was lost before she could master the effect.

Michael sat down and leaned back his long frame stretched out, his inked chest gleaming as the sweat dried on his skin. His eyes moved salaciously over Sara.

"I think we should head out as soon as my last set is over."

She couldn't help but smile. "You do, huh?"

He nodded and grinned. "I so do."

She laughed and shook her head, the blond she had seen pretty much forgotten.

"I have to use the restroom."

Michael started to get up.

"Um, Heather, you coming?"

"Fine, I'll just wait here then." He sat back heavily as if disappointed, but then he was smiling.

Sara felt her cheeks redden and grabbed Heather's hand.

"Your brother… God!"

Heather grinned. "Oh, you know you love it, Sara!"

"Pretty transparent, huh?"

"Like Saran wrap," Heather agreed.

"Hmmm... I suppose I should work on that…"

XXXXX

Sara wasn't gone long, but when she got back to the table Michael was no where to be seen. She sat back and looked around, confident that the conversation about who made the better guitar strings would have been lost on her when she was there for the whole conversation, so she could just forget joining in mid discussion.

She felt Linc's eyes on her, but he looked away when she met his eyes. She frowned, but didn't think anything of it until she caught him at it again. What was going on?

"Um, Linc, do you know where Michael went?"

Sara watched his reaction, but didn't wait for an answer. She saw Heather on her way towards the back of the bar, but her friend was busy chatting with someone they went to school with so she kept on moving.

She was headed for the two doors backstage, her mind screaming that it couldn't possibly be what she thought it was. Michael wouldn't do that to her… to them.

She put on the brakes and made herself count to ten. And then taking a few a deep breaths she moved towards the slightly open door to the first room. The other door was closed tight.

Sara hadn't really expected to find them in the first room, but stopped at the sound of voices.

"Michael I don't think you understand what I'm offering you, so let me make it clear. I want you. I wanted you when I saw you out in California, but I didn't have the authority to make it happen then. I have that authority now. I can make this happen for you."

There was a pause and then, "I don't know what to say. I mean…What about the guys? I mean, you want the band too, right?"

More silence for a few beats and then, "I'm sorry, Michael, this offer is for you. You have so much potential. I saw it before, but now…it's amazing…You've grown so much in just this short amount of time." The excitement in her voice was almost tangible.

"My girlfriend is on scholarship here," this was spoken softly and Sara had to strain to hear him.

"Can…is there any way I could record here in Chicago? I mean, if I decide to do this?"

"Michael... again…Look, I'll be in town for a few days. Don't let this chance slip by you. If you want this, call me."

Sara heard approaching footsteps, the sound of heels clicking on the tile floor loud to her straining ears.

She was moving back when Michael spoke again. "Um, Miss Barrow?"

The footsteps paused. "You can call me, Jane, Michael."

"Jane…Um, thank you."

Sara moved away, her body on automatic pilot. She ducked into the restroom and made her way to a stall. She heard the door open and the sharp sound of heels on tile. A few moments later the door opened again and Sara knew she was once again alone in the restroom.

XXXXX

Sara knew she was being much more quiet than usual, but then so was Michael. They hadn't said much the entire ride home.

She had held her breath waiting for him to mention the incredible offer, but now he was headed off to the shower and he still hadn't said a word about it. She tried to imagine how it would feel with him gone, so far away, and it felt like she couldn't breathe. Still, this was his dream…how could he not take Miss Barrow up on it?

She sighed and pulled off her shirt and bra, only to grab one of Michael's old t-shirts to pull over her head. She seriously doubted that they would do more than sleep tonight, so sexy underwear was not a top priority.

She pushed off her jeans and climbed beneath the sheets, where she tried desperately to turn off her thoughts. But she couldn't. How could she when the very idea of Michael leaving hurt so much?

She was tossing and turning her mind far too awake to let sleep claim her when she realized that quite some time had passed since Michael had headed off to the shower.

She slipped from the bed to go look for him, her curiosity peaked. She opened the door and stepped out of the bedroom. He was sitting on the sofa. He looked up and smiled at her , the small noise of a creaky floor board having alerted him to her presence.

"Hey."

"Hey. Is everything okay?"

He nodded, "Yeah, everything's okay. I was just um…never mind."

He stood up, the towel slipping a little on his hips.

"We should probably get to bed."

She nodded. "Yeah, okay."

She was barley in the room when he pulled her to him; his mouth falling on hers hungrily; desperately. She kissed him back with everything she had, his mouth more rough than usual exciting her further.

He pushed her against the wall, her shoulders banging almost painfully. And then his hands moved over her, snaking between her thighs. Using both hands he ripped her underwear off, the thin materiel giving way without much effort.

Something about this was different her mind insisted, he was acting differently. This wasn't Michael, this was…Oh, God his fingers! She bucked against his hand and moaned, her body not caring about different. This was so good!

The towel he was wearing had long since fallen away and she shoved his hands away forcing him to use other means.

He pushed his body into her roughly, a moan in both of their throats resounding loudly in the otherwise quiet room. She clutched him desperately as he hoisted her up, her legs finding their way around his naked torso as he moved. His thrusts were hard and each one left her closer as she pulled him into her, her gasps and moans a mix of pain and pleasure.

She shoved him back only to have him slam into her, deeper than the last thrust, and then she felt the wave of pleasure begin to crest hotly within, and as it built she clutched him tighter, her breath rushing out of her in a gasping desperate release.

She loosened her grip and he shoved into her again and again, each thrust harder and faster than the last until he was gasping, his orgasm loud against her ear; his body sheathed in sweat.

She clutched him to her and they held each other until their hearts had slowed and their breath was no longer tearing out of them. And then he lowered her to the floor.

Without a word he took her hand and led her to the bed.


	22. Chapter 22

(Sara)

Sara lay with her back to him. Over an hour had passed since they had made their way over to the bed, and she was still trying to figure out what had happened. Sure it had been great… sex with Michael was always great, but tonight it had been different, much rougher then she was used to. It had almost felt like he was angry with her, like he was using his body as a means to hurt her. She shook the thought from her head. That was crazy! Besides, Michael would never purposely hurt her. She knew this.

And besides, he hadn't been acting angry prior to their coupling, just distant. Afterwards it had continued. Where usually they would lay in each other's arms and talk, tonight he had claimed he was really tired and given her a quick kiss before turning over, leaving her to these thoughts she couldn't seem to banish.

She wished so badly that she could know what he was thinking. But her only choice unless he opened up to her was to ask him about it, and she didn't want to have to do that. Why hadn't he told her about the offer from Jane Barrow?

Sara couldn't help but feel confused by everything that had happened, but at least there was one thing she could maybe feel okay about. She had started on birth control pills over a week ago. They had only still been using condoms for precautionary measures until the pills were fully effective.

Sara quickly did the math and sighed inwardly in relief. She should be okay.

Feeling the fatigue of the day finally hit her, her eye lids began to droop.

Rolling over she looked at his still form.

Was he asleep?

She lay there fighting sleep as she stared at the back of his head. She found herself barely breathing as she listened to his inhalations. Each breath he took was deep and even.

So he was asleep.

Sara moved closer and put her arm around him, pressing her body close to his. He mumbled something in his sleep and she tucked her head close to his back; her cheek resting against his warm skin.  
She closed her eyes against the tears that were threatening, but she knew they would come eventually.

She knew they would come when he said goodbye...

(Michael)

Michael rolled over to the empty side of the bed. He had been awake when she left the room over half an hour ago, but feigned sleep to avoid facing her.

He closed his eyes and rolled over onto his back, the ceiling a welcome blank canvas, there was nothing up there to remind him of the night before.

He had treated her badly, he knew, using her to make himself feel better. And he had promised himself he would never use her like that, like he had with other women in the past. He had been angry, but not with her, and yet he had taken it out on her. He was still angry now; angry with himself for wanting this. He wanted this so much; this record deal. But it meant leaving her, and he didn't know if he could do that.

If only she could go with him. But he knew he couldn't ask her to do that. He knew how important school was to her, how important her dream to become a doctor.

He closed his eyes just hoping for sleep, but he knew it wouldn't come. He was wide awake.

Giving up, he pushed the blankets aside and grabbed a pair of clean boxers out of his drawer.

Once dressed, he made his way into the kitchen to make some coffee. He didn't have to be anywhere until afternoon practice, and he wasn't even sure if he was going today. How could he go in there and pretend he was part of a band he was considering deserting for a cushy record deal? And he was still considering it, how could he not?

He sighed and dumped in coffee. Shoving it closed he realized he hadn't counted the scoops. He figured it would probably be strong enough to grow hair on a baby's chest, but he would still drink it.

He made his way to the table to wait for it to brew and plopped down, the silence of the apartment suddenly getting to him. Soon the sound of dripping coffee and the grunts and groans of the maker filled the air, but that wasn't much better.

He hopped up and grabbed the cream out of the refrigerator. That was when he saw her note.

'Michael,

I have a paper due, so I'll be at the library for a while tonight.  
I'll try to make it for your last set.

Love,

Sara.'

He crumpled the note and started to toss it, but then thought better of it. He smoothed it out and re-read it. And then folding it up, he shoved it into his pocket.

(Sara)

Sara closed her book with a sigh and fought the urge to just give up and go home. She wasn't getting anywhere with her paper and it was getting late. She had spent the morning and now into late evening trying to push aside her personal problems, but it was a losing battle. She couldn't stop herself from thinking about Michael and all that had transpired the previous day. How could everything fall apart in just one day?

Everything had seemed so perfect… and now? Now Michael wouldn't even talk to her.

So much for the two of them not keeping anything from each other; So much for them telling each other when something good happened or when something was bothering them. His words had apparently come with stipulations where he himself was concerned.

Sara suddenly felt herself becoming angry, and this was a first. Up until this moment she had pretty much just been feeling sorry for herself.

But then why shouldn't she be angry? He was closing himself off from her again. Was he just planning to accept the offer and then tell her he was leaving? Was he afraid she would try to talk him out of taking the deal? She sighed and pushed back from the table.

She was going to fail her classes at this rate. But she knew it was hopeless today. She gathered her books and made her way through the library, all the while telling herself she would work extra hard tomorrow. She was pushing through the library doors on her way to her car when she saw Paul.

"Hey, Sara. You on your way out, too?"

He caught up with her and fell into step beside her.

"Hey, Paul. Yeah, um, I am on my way out."

She felt his eyes studying her but continued to walk.

"So, you wanna get some dinner or something? We haven't talked in a while."

She was about to say no, but surprised herself by actually wanting to go…no needing to go. She knew she could use the distraction, and Michael wouldn't be expecting her until later that night.

"Yeah sure, Paul, why not?"

"Great! I found this amazing Italian place…they just opened up. The manicotti is…"

"Amazing!" She said with him and they both laughed.

As she felt herself start to relax, Sara couldn't help but think this was just what she needed.

Sara knew she was late again as she pushed her way through the doors to the club. And she had had a little bit too much wine as well. In fact she had drank so much that she hadn't felt comfortable driving, so Paul, who seemed totally sober compared to her, had offered to drive her, and she had taken him up on it.

"They're good!"

She jumped now at the nearness of his voice in her ear.

She really must be drunk, because she hadn't even been aware that Paul had followed her in. She vaguely remembered him saying something about checking out Michael's band but she hadn't thought he meant tonight.

Not wanting to seem rude she just smiled, or hoped it was a smile, she really was feeling no pain, and motioned for him to follow her.

They made their way to the table, and she introduced Paul to the girls. Heather, who already knew Paul, just gave her a look. But Sara was too buzzed to automatically get what the look was even about.

So she had brought her friend to the club…big deal. And then she remembered that Heather not only knew Paul, but knew that Paul had once tried to kiss her.

She plopped down next to Heather and hugged her friend.

"Hi."

Heather cringed a little from her breath as she spoke loudly in her ear, but Sara didn't even notice.

She let her eyes move to Michael, her emotions fueled by too much wine going from the anger she had been feeling since her waste of time at the library and back to the hurt feelings she was becoming used to.

But Michael wasn't looking at her, she realized, he was looking at Paul, the expression on his face tough to read in her drunken state. And then Heather was pulling her up out of her seat and onto the dance floor.

Sara not much of a dancer sober would have been surprised to learn she was much better at it drunk. She was more relaxed and her inhibitions were fewer. She let her body move with the music and it felt good, the light sweat she was working up invigorating. She glanced over and saw Paul watching her and smiled.

She would think later how very stupid her next action was, but right then it seemed harmless enough. She moved to the table and held out her hand to him. He looked at her for a few beats and then took it. He was laughing as she dragged him out onto the floor.

She pulled him over to where Heather was, and her friend stopped moving for a second, but then continued to dance, as the three of them grooved along to the music. Sara grabbed Heather's hand and spun her. And then she did the same to Paul. And then Paul grabbed her around the waist and she stumbled into him. He held onto her for maybe a beat too long and then she was free from his arms.

Sara was having fun. She wasn't thinking about Michael, if she had been she might have noticed the look on his face as he sang…and if she had seen the look she might have been able to stop what happened next.


	23. Chapter 23

(Michael)

Michael watched as the guy, Paul, pulled Sara close and then moved away. The dance was heating up with each touch. Paul would only hold on to Sara for a few seconds, but the look on his face when his hands were on her was getting to Michael, making him want to jump off the stage and knock the guy on his ass.

His jaw clenched at the thought. He knew he had already messed up some of the lyrics to the song, lyrics he had written himself and long since memorized, and normally he would be pissed at himself for it, but right now he didn't care, he just wanted the set to be over so he could get out of there before he did something he would later regret.

And what was Sara doing with this guy anyways? She knew Paul wanted her, was this just some kind of game she was playing again? Michael had thought they were passed all of that. Or was she just mad at him about last night?

He looked away again, but a few seconds later his eyes were back on them. And the guy was at it again. This time he pulled her close and said something into her ear.

Sara stumbled and regained her balance by leaning against him and Michael watched as Paul's hands moved way too low on her hips to be a coincidence.

No longer caring about the song, the set, anything, he threw down his mic and jumped from the stage. And then he was shoving Paul hard.

The music went on for a few beats and then came to a halt as each instrument was left on the stage. The guys in the band rushed out onto the floor.

Michael was moving towards Paul when Linc grabbed him.

"Whoa, hold up man, he ain't worth it."

But Michael thought he was worth it. He thought it would be worth a lot to knock the smirk off the guys face. He lunged at him, but Linc's hold was strong.

"Come on, man..."

Michael was glaring at Paul, but moved his eyes to Sara. She was standing there with a shocked look on her face.

Without saying anything he turned and stalked off.

"Michael, wait… it's not what you think. We were just dancing!"

She was chasing after him, but she was drunk and he wasn't, making him much quicker on his feet.

He rounded the bend leading around the bar and was intent on heading out the door.

"Hey, where's the fire?"

Veronica stepped in front of him and he almost knocked her down.

His hands landed solidly on her shoulders.

"Not now, Vee."

But she grabbed his arm. "Where are you going, Mike?"

He studied her for a beat. And then looking behind him at Sara coming around the side of the bar, "Your place, come on."

(Sara)

Sara stopped in her tracks when she saw Michael with Veronica. She watched as Michael turned and looked back towards the bar where she stood and then his eyes were back on Vee. He said something to her and the dark beauty grinned and snaked her arm around his waist.

Sara stood frozen as the two of them headed towards the door together and then left.

Suddenly feeling sick, she bolted for the ladies room. She barely made it through the door and to a stall before she was sick. She leaned over the toilet as her body was wracked by heave after heave. And then when her stomach was empty she sank to the grimy floor.

She reached up and flushed the toilet and then leaned back taking deep breaths.

She heard the bathroom door open and held her breath, hoping whoever it was would just leave her alone and let her die already; 'cause that's what it felt like, like she was dying inside.

"Sara, are you in here?" It was Heather, and the concern in her voice was evident.

I'm here," Sara mumbled hoarsely.

She stood up, her stomach lurching a little and put the toilet seat down. Her legs were still shaky so she sat down and took a deep breath.

At Heather's hesitant knock, she reached and unlatched the stall door.

Sara took one look at her friend's face and burst into tears. Heather moved into the small stall and gathered her into her arms. She smoothed back her hair and held her.

And then Sara was talking, but she knew she wasn't really making any sense. After a few minutes of this she stopped trying to explain anything and just buried her face in Heather's shoulder and cried.

When she felt like she couldn't cry anymore she pulled back, her voice dry in her throat.

"I messed everything up, Heather."

Heather shook her head. "No way. He just needs time to cool down, that's all. And then you two can talk it out."

It was Sara's turn to shake her head.

"Michael left, Heather… He left with Veronica."

Sara felt her eyes fill with tears again and sank back against Heather's shoulder.

"It's going to be okay, Sara," her friend soothed, but to Sara, Heather didn't sound so sure.

(Michael)

Once outside Michael turned to Veronica. She was pressing up against him and he detached himself from her quickly.

"I just need a place to crash tonight, okay?"

She grinned and licked her lips. "No problem, Mike. You can crash at my place for as long as you like."

She was up on him again. He pulled away.

"I mean it Vee; I just need someplace to sleep tonight. If you're not cool with that let me know now and I'll find someplace else to crash."

She pouted her red lips out, but agreed.

"Fine, you can 'sleep' at my place for as long as you like. But just know my bedroom door is always open."

He grabbed her arm. "I'll keep it in mind."

(The next morning)

(Sara)

Sara's alarm clock went off sending a blaring message of pain and nonsense from the local DJ morning crew, 'Drew and Mike'. Her head felt like it might explode as they debated whether or not 'Lost' was hell or just an alternate reality.

She reached and cruising right passed the snooze button, slammed her hand down on the off button sending the room into head pounding silence.

She had the hangover of all hangovers. And her mouth felt like the inside of a q-tip swab.

She rolled over and pulled the pillow over her head refusing to get up. And then it hit her, she was still alone in the bed. She had waited up for Michael until after 3:00, and then gone to bed only to lie there until sometime after 4:00. But he hadn't come home last night.

Unless?

She hopped up, her speeding pulse slamming through her head sending waves of pain and nausea, but she had to know. She cracked open the door and peeked out. The sofa was empty.

She sighed and shut the door, leaning her back against it heavily.

She stood for a moment her eyes moving to the clock, and then made her way back to the bed where she sank down.

So he had stayed at Veronica's all night? Last night she had refused to believe he would do it. She had held out hope that he would walk through the door and tell her nothing had happened; he just needed to cool down, that now he was back and they should talk. But as the time ticked away with her lying in bed waiting for him to come home she had realized that wasn't going to happen.

She crawled under the blankets now and pulled them up. She knew she had only forty-five minutes to make it to her first class, but she didn't care. Right now she just wanted to go back to sleep.

She squeezed her eyes closed and stuck the pillow over her head, but it was no good. She knew if she stayed in bed she would only relive the night before over and over in horrible detail.

She threw the pillow across the room knocking over Michael's guitar, sending the sound of the strings vibrating inside the acoustic instrument echoing through the room.

She stared at it until the warm browns of the wood blurred and her tears began to roll freely down her cheeks. And then she buried her face in her hands and cried.

(Michael)

Michael awoke to the sounds of banging in the kitchen. He pried open his eyes and glanced to the clock on Vee's DVD player. 8:09. He sighed and shoved the pillow over his head. It was too early to start another day of thinking and indecision. And then there was last night to think about on top of everything else...

Knowing it was hopeless he shoved the pillow aside and swung his long legs over the side of the couch and onto the floor. He looked around for his jeans and shirt but they were gone. He swore softly under his breath and headed for the kitchen.

"Where are my clothes, Veronica?"

He was trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice, but failed miserably.

"I'm washing them for you," she smiled sweetly.

His eyes moved over her as her robe fell open. She was wearing a lacy purple teddy and nothing else. He pulled his eyes away, but it was too late she had already noticed him staring.

"Do you like it?" She opened her robe giving him the full frontal show.

"Yeah, sure it's nice." He looked away and made his way to the cupboard for a mug.

"Well, nice is not exactly what I was shooting for, but a girl will take what she can get."

When this elicited no response Veronica sighed and closed her robe. "We had a lot of fun together once, Mike. We could again."

"Vee…Come on. Don't do this, okay?"

He poured coffee into his mug, added cream and took a sip. When he turned around she was right behind him.

"So that's it then? You're leaving and…"

Michael nodded. "That's it Vee."

"Well, then it can't hurt to do this."

She reached and pulled his mouth down on hers, her lips demanding him to respond and he did, but just for a second as old habits took hold of him and the events of the previous night lent reason to the cause.

He felt her fingers on his face loosen and wrap around his head as the kiss deepened and her tongue delved into his mouth. And then he was jerking away from her, the mug of coffee falling from his hand, splashing up onto their bare legs.

"Owww!"

Veronica grabbed a dish towel and ran to the sink to wet it.

Michael just stood there stunned, unaware of the hot coffee on his legs as what he had just let happen fully hit him.

(Sara)

"Not now, Paul."

Sara walked passed him and then stopped. She sighed and turned around, copper blending with periwinkle as their eyes met. She couldn't take this out on him. After all it was she who had gotten drunk and pulled him onto the dance floor in two seconds of bad decision making. And she couldn't blame Paul for Michael not coming home last night either, she had only herself to blame for that...and of course Michael.

"Listen, Sara, I'm really sorry about last night. I didn't know Michael was the jealous type."

Sara glanced at him as she shoved her book bag into the car.

"Yeah, I guess he is at that. Listen, Paul, I really have to go. I need to get home."

Somehow she had made it to all but her first class and the notes she had managed to take weren't half bad either, which was amazing considering the fact that she felt as if she were moving through a heavy black fog.

She moved around to the driver's side and pulled open the door.

"Sara?"

She sighed and turned around. She didn't want to be rude, but what she really wanted was to be on the road.

"Yes, Paul?"

"I just want you to know my offer still stands. About staying at my place... I mean...if you need to."

Sara just looked at him for a few beats. "Um, okay, thanks, I'll um, keep it in mind."

Needing to be away more than ever, she hopped in the car and turned the key in the ignition.

She drove away leaving him standing there, hoping she wouldn't ever have to take him up on his offer.


	24. Chapter 24

(Sara)

Sara had been anxious to get back to the apartment, but now that she was there, she found herself sitting and staring at Michael's parked car. So he was home.

She sat there for a few minutes longer going over what she could possible say to him and then pushed open the door and made her way, book bag in hand, up the front walk. Her hand shook slightly as she fitted the key into the locked door and then she was pushing it open.

Michael looked up as she entered and then his head dipped back down to the guitar in his lap. He had a tuning fork in one hand and was twisting the knobs on the guitar with the other.

Sara stood there for a few beats and then tossed her book bag onto the chair. As her anger at being ignored grew, all of the calm she had managed to gather flew right out the window.

"So, how's Veronica? Catch up on old times?" Her words were dripping with sarcasm.

"Vee and I are just friends...you know how that goes, Sara, right?...When you're just friends?"

He looked up at her and she could see it in his eyes. He had slept with Veronica, Sara was sure of it.

"Oh, and do me a favor, next time you knock my guitar over, pick it up, would you?"

He set the guitar down and was headed towards the kitchen when she grabbed it up from where he had left it leaning against the chair.

Sara wasn't sure what she was thinking when she did what she did next. The problem was she wasn't really thinking at all she was too angry with him.

"Pick it up? You stay out all night with that piece of...of bar trash and then you tell me to...to pick up your guitar?"

He turned around just in time to see her smashing his guitar into the coffee table. She swung it down with all she had, the neck breaking off as the body shattered. And then she dropped it, her eyes going wide at what she had done. Her breath was coming fast as she stared at the carnage.

She made herself look up to meet his cold eyes. He looked so mad. Sara had never seen him look so angry.

"I'm sorry, I...I didn't mean to break it. I really.."

He walked over and grabbed the pieces up off the floor. And then without saying anything he went into the bedroom and slammed the door.

XXXXX

Sara stood for a few minutes unable to move. She had been out of control, she knew this. And now that the anger was gone, spent no doubt in the smashing of Michael's beautiful guitar all she could do was stand there, hands shaking, legs weak.

She made her way to the sofa and sank down onto it. She didn't cry, she didn't think there were any tears left. She just sat there in the awful silence. She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting there when the front door opened and Heather stepped into the room.

She dropped her keys onto the table and looked around at the splinters of wood peppering the carpet. Sara looked up at her and met her questioning eyes.

"I, um, Michael's guitar."

Heather moved to sit beside her.

"His guitar? Sara whats going on? Michael would never smash that guitar, our uncle gave to him...He had it restored last year, it's his most prized possession."

"What? Oh, God no...It can't be...I thought... I mean he never told me that was the guitar from his uncle...Oh, God Heather he must hate me."

Heather looked at her, the light bulb going on behind her eyes almost visible as it all became clear.

"You busted the guitar?"

Sara nodded. And then she proved herself wrong, it seemed there still were tears left to be shed.

XXXXX

Heather put her arm around Sara and pulled her close. "It's going to be okay, Sara, he loves you, I know he does."

Sara looked up, her vision blurred with tears.

"I think he slept with Veronica, Heather."

"Oh, wow, is that why you?.." Heather swept a hand across the splinter strewn floor.

Sara nodded and swiped at her tears.

"I could talk to him for you if you want? Maybe try to explain things. Like how you didn't know it was Uncle Bob's guitar? Maybe find out what happened with Vee...'Cause maybe nothing did happen...Maybe..."

Sara shook her head and moved to stand. "I need to do this myself."

Heather grabbed her hand. "Maybe you should let him cool down first, Sara? I mean, talk to him tomorrow?"

Sara shook her head. "I can't leave it like this, Heather."

She moved to his door, where she knocked quickly before she could chicken out. At first there was no sound on the other side of the door, and then it opened. Sara met his eyes and then looked back at Heather who was still seated on the sofa where she sat watching them. Her friend gave her an encouraging nod, as if to say, go on.

Finding strength in this, Sara took a deep breath and then turned back to Michael.

"I think we need to talk, Michael."

He swung the door wide and stepped back to let her enter. She followed him in and closed the door. The room was so quiet as she turned to face him.

"I, um, I'm sorry about your guitar...I don't know what I was thinking... I just...I didn't know how much it meant to you...That it was the one your uncle gave you."

She ran a nervous hand through her hair and moved to sit on the bed. This was hard, much harder then she ever would have thought talking to Michael could be. Her heart was pounding and her palms were sweating. She wiped them absently on her jeans and looked up at him. He had yet to say a word.

He walked across the room and grabbed the hard backed chair, as it was the only thing in the room other than the bed to sit on.

He turned it around and sat, straddling it backwards as he faced her.

"Ask me what you came in here to ask, Sara." His voice was cold, his eyes cutting into her with laser like precision as he waited for her to speak.

She swallowed the lump in her dry throat and then straightened her back in determination. She could do this. She would ask him and whatever his answer she would be strong. She wouldn't let herself cry in front of him.

"Did something happen with Veronica, did you sleep with her, Michael?"

There it was out, the leaden question that had been sitting so heavily inside her chest.

He looked down at his hands on the chair back and then back up to her face. "No, I didn't sleep with Vee, Sara. Nothing happened."

Sara felt as if he had punched her. He was lying. And if he wasn't, then why couldn't he meet her eyes? Why was he focusing somewhere just below them?

She took a deep breath and let it out trying to stay calm; trying not to let the anger that was bubbling up inside her take control of the situation making her say the words that would surely only push him further away. But when she opened her mouth the words came out anyways. The accusation bitter on her tongue.

"You're lying to me Michael. Why are you lying? Just tell me the truth. You slept with her, it's written all over your face."

"Right, 'cause I'm the guy who'll fuck anything, I forgot that's what you think of me."

"I didn't say that, Michael..."

"But you do think it, don't you? It's your turn to be honest, Sara. You don't trust me."

She met his eyes, her coppery depths full of pain at how he was turning this around on her.

"I don't think that, Michael. But you keep things from me. You hide things and...And now your lying to me."

She twisted her hands in her lap. This wasn't going well, in fact it was going horribly wrong, and she knew this, but her next words fell from her lips anyways burying them deeper.

"When were you planning to tell me that you're leaving?"

XXXXX

(Michael)

When she smashed his guitar he had needed badly to get away from her. It was either that, or he would have smashed something himself. And then when she came at him with her accusations about Veronica he felt his defenses go up. So he had fallen back into one of his old habits with women; lying his way out of things. But Sara hadn't bought it.

Probably because he couldn't face her when he said it, couldn't look into her eyes and say nothing had happened. But how could he tell her about the kiss? Would she have believed him that he had ended it without taking it further?

And now, her eyes a mixture of hurt and anger, her voice strong despite a slight tremor, she threw him for yet another loop.

"When were you planning to tell me that you're leaving?"

Had he just heard her correctly? She couldn't possibly know about Jane Barrow's offer. Could she? Had she somehow overheard them the other night? If Sara had overheard them talking then she must have known about the record deal all along.

He felt his anger dissipate as he took it all in. Suddenly this was all starting to make sense to him. Sara knew about the offer and was waiting for him to tell her about it. Instead he had kept it to himself while he tried to figure things out. He had closed himself off to her again. And the way he had treated her that night?

His eyes moved to his mangled guitar. He knew he deserved far worse after the way he had behaved. So, all of this was his fault…Again. If only he had confided in her none of this would have happened.

He took a deep breath and let it out.

"I was…I don't know. I mean I wasn't sure if I was taking the offer. I didn't want to tell anyone until…"

Until you decided you were going to leave? And if you turned the offer down, Michael, would you have told me then?" Her voice shook a little and it killed him that she was hurting because of him.

"I didn't want to make…If I decided not to go there would be no reason to tell you…why would I?"

She looked at him for a few beats and then, "Why would you tell me when something exciting happens to you? Why? Because I'm supposed to be your girlfriend, Michael! I'm supposed to be the one you tell things to remember? What ever happened to lets not keep things from each other?"

Her voice grew louder as she continued to speak.

"And here I felt bad because I didn't tell you I was struggling with my classes! My God Michael, I could have handled knowing that you might leave. What I couldn't handle was not knowing what you were thinking. I couldn't handle that you were leaving me out of your life! So I'm sorry I broke your guitar! I'm sorry I danced with Paul! But more than anything, I'm sorry I ever fell in love with you!"

She jumped up and ran from the room. A few seconds later the front door slammed shut throwing the apartment into total silence.


	25. Chapter 25

He lowered his head to rest against the backs of his hands, his knuckles white from squeezing the chair back. He sat like that for a few moments, unmoving as her words washed through him leaving him consumed with emotion.

She was in love with him. But deep down he'd already known that, hadn't he? And he had fucked it up, badly, Sara was right. How could he have thought not telling her was a good idea? He sighed and released his tight grip on the chair.

His eyes were scanning the quiet room when Heather stuck her head around the side of the partially open door. He looked up at her as she pushed it the rest of the way open and stepped into the room.

"Um, Mike? Ah, are you okay?"

Michael was pretty sure she had heard everything, the walls weren't that thick. He nodded, but he was far from okay.

"Sara left," she said stating the obvious as she took a seat across from him on the bed.

"I heard."

The silence in the room grew, and then Heather took a deep breath.

"I wasn't purposely trying to overhear anything, but…Michael, I heard everything, I think."

He sighed and leaned back a little in the chair.

"Heather, I don't…I got an offer, okay? This woman from road hopper records, Jane Barrow? She came by the club the other night and offered me a contract. She wants me to come to California and record with her company."

Heather just stared at him so he continued.

"I didn't say anything to anyone because I wasn't sure if I was taking the deal. I know... now you can be pissed at me too. Go ahead. I might even have another guitar around here somewhere for you to smash."

Heather didn't say anything she just leaned forward and hugged him, the wooden chair back between them. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed his eyes closed tight. When he pulled back his eyes were bright with unshed tears and his jaw was clenched with emotion.

"Are you taking it, Mike?"

He met her eyes and shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know anything anymore Heather."

And then he stood up. "What I do know is I need to find Sara. I need to talk to her; that is if she'll even speak to me."

Heather nodded and stood up from her place on the bed.

"Do you have any idea where she might have gone?"

Heather looked away avoiding his eyes. "Um, no, I mean not really."

"Heather, come on. If you know something; if you think you know where she might have gone, please tell me."

Heather looked up at him. "The only place I can think of…I mean where she would go for the night…" She hesitated for a few beats, "She might have gone to Paul's?"

Michael's jaw tightened. "Do you know where he lives?"

Heather shook her head. "All I know is he has an apartment close to campus. You could look him up I guess."

Michael was starting to move away, but she grabbed his arm. "You have to promise me something, Mike, if I help you find her, this night won't end with you in jail."

Michael looked at her for a few beats, "I just want to talk to her, Heather."

Heather sighed, and then she nodded her head. "Okay, I'll go see what I can do."

XXXXX

As his hands moved along her back, each stroke of his fingers erased the pain, each touch of his lips on her skin consumed any guilt she might have felt with a gasp.

He found her body responding to him, giving into his touches, his kisses, his thrusts, her all consuming need to not feel anything except what was being offered, only the physical, the here, the now.

Tomorrow she would blame this on weakness, he knew, on the need to find comfort where it was being offered. But tonight; tonight she hadn't stopped him from taking it this far, she hadn't pushed him away.

He moaned low in his throat as she brought her fingers up through his hair and down around his neck pulling his mouth down on hers as she moved above him eagerly. He only wished she had let him take her to his bed.

He knew this was not something she normally would do, that this was different for her. And nothing in his movements would remind her of him, the man who was breaking her heart. There was nothing of him that would invoke anything but what this was, a simple forgetting for a brief moment in time, and friend that he was, how could he deny her this comfort?

He smiled as she moaned for him now, a low sound growing louder with each thrust of his hips against her open thighs. She was so close he could almost taste it, filling his mouth with moan after moan, as she quivered around him.

She arched her torso and threw her head back. He moved forward and took a nipple into his mouth, savoring in the taste of her on his tongue as she moaned.

As he moved the pillow at his back toppled over and fell onto the table beside the sofa knocking the lamp onto the floor with a crash.

Michael's fist was poised to knock when a loud crash from within made him think twice. He jumped off the small porch and into the bushes surrounding the window. The blinds were partially open allowing him a clear view of the living room. He peered in and the sight of her with Paul was like a knife in his heart.

Her red hair was moving like silk down her back, the perfect whiteness of her skin flushed with heat. He closed his eyes, his fists tightening and then made himself look away. Every part of him wanted to go to the door and knock. Hell, he wanted to knock it down. Force his way in and confront them both. But if he did this, Michael knew he would be on Paul. And he wouldn't stop until the man lay bleeding.

But he had promised Heather he wouldn't do anything crazy.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as his fists relaxed from their white knuckled clench. And then without another look towards the window, he jumped out of the bushes and made himself walk away.

Her head rested against his shoulder, as the sweat dried on their bodies. She hadn't spoken since the gasping of his name. He pulled away a little and was about to ask her if she wanted to stay the night, when his cell phone went off beside him.

"I feel irrational  
so confrontational  
to tell the truth I am  
Getting away with murder  
It isn't possible  
to never tell the truth  
But the reality is I'm getting away with murder  
(Getting away, Getting away, Getting away)"

He grabbed the phone up as she moved away, her red hair hiding her eyes from him.

"Hello?"

He listened as she spoke, his eyes moving to the red head next to him.

He smiled as her words filled the tiny speaker.

"Yeah, sure you can. I told you if you needed a place to crash my door was always open."

He felt her eyes on his face, but pretended not to notice.

"Okay, I'll see you in a bit then."

He flipped his phone closed. It was only then that he looked at her.

"I think you should probably leave now, Jen."

She stared at him, her large brown eyes knowing. But really could she blame him? After all this was what it was. She would go home to her verbally abusive husband and that would be that. They both knew how it worked.

She got up without a word and gathered her clothing from the floor. He watched as she moved to the bathroom, her skin so perfect in the soft glow of the only remaining lamp in the room.

He moved his eyes to the busted lamp and smiled. And then he reached and righted it. He had to get the place straightened up before Sara arrived.

XXXXX

Sara flipped her phone closed with a sigh. When she rushed out of the apartment she hadn't known where she was going, she just knew she had to get away from him. So she had driven to the library. But she hadn't gone inside; she hadn't wanted to explain her tears to the nosy librarian.

She reached and started the ignition with a promise to herself. She would only stay at Paul's for a day or two at the most. Tomorrow she would see if there were any dorm room openings. She had to find someplace more permanent to stay. She knew she couldn't count on the fact that she would work things out with Michael.

She sighed as she wondered how different her life would be if her dorm at Bennington house hadn't burned to the ground. She had a feeling it would have been quite different. And while her words to Michael had mostly been spoken out of anger, Sara knew her life would be much simpler if she had never fallen for him.

A sheen of tears coated her coppery eyes at the thought and she blinked them away telling herself she couldn't show up on Paul's doorstep in tears. She knew he would want an explanation, but tonight she just wanted a hot shower and a blanket to hide under.

She pulled up in front of his place and shut off the engine. She had only been to his apartment once to pick up some notes, and she surprised herself now by remembering which apartment was his. He lived in a duplex and most of the houses on the block looked similar if not the same. But she remembered Paul's house having a deep red bush by the window.

She stepped from the car and made her way up to his door. She had nothing but her handbag and the few items inside of it. She would have to ask Heather to gather a few things for her tomorrow. But for now the clothes on her back would just have to do.

She knocked softly and stood waiting for him to answer. Thinking maybe she hadn't knocked hard enough, she was about to knock again when he opened the door. The caring smile on his face brought instant tears to her eyes despite her resolution. She felt her eyes fill and then his arm was around her leading her inside.

Lyrics to Getting away with Murder: Papa Roach


	26. Chapter 26

She was leaning into him, finding comfort in his arm around her, but when she saw the woman seated on the couch she instinctively pulled away.

The woman slipped on her low heeled shoes and stood. She wore an uneasy smile on her lips, and Sara thought she looked somewhat embarrassed.

Sara brushed at her tears quickly. "I, um, I hope I'm not interrupting anything? I mean you should have told me you had company, Paul."

"Ah, it's no big deal. Jen just dropped by to borrow some notes. Oh, my bad. Sara this is Jen, Jen Sara." He smiled amiably.

The two women nodded at each other uncomfortably. Sara, because despite what Paul had claimed everything about the way the woman was holding herself suggested that Sara showing up was an interruption.

"Jen was just leaving anyways, right, Jen?"

Jen nodded. "Um, yeah I have to go. It was nice meeting you Sara."

"You too, "Sara said.

As her eyes followed Jen to the door, she couldn't help but notice the woman's strong resemblance to her. The red hair and her long tall build.

"Don't forget those notes," Paul called out and turned to smile at Sara.

"Oh, um, yeah, thanks, Paul." She reached and grabbed the note book off the table by the door and then slipped out closing it behind her.

"I could make us some coffee if you like?"

Sara nodded. "Yeah, okay."

She took a seat on the couch as Paul headed for the kitchen.

XXXXX

(Michael)

"Give me another," Michael pushed his empty glass back at the bartender.

The bartender looked at him for a few seconds and then walked away shaking his head. But he was back almost immediately with a full glass. He set it down in front of Michael and started to walk away again.

"Don't go far, man." Michael downed half of the drink in one gulp.

The bartender sighed. Michael was on his fifth drink in the short time he had been at the bar; said bar a seedy little hole in the wall with maybe three other patrons besides himself.

He finished his drink and demanded another as the only woman in the place sought him out. They always did. He glanced at her wearily. She was older, but still attractive, a blonde with a large chest she proudly displayed in her low cut blouse for whoever cared to have a look. He looked and then let his eyes move to her smiling face.

"You see anything you like, honey?"

He shook his head. "No, I mean yeah, but I'm not interested, Thanks. But they are beautiful, they really are."

He picked up the drink that had just been deposited in front of him and toasted them before taking a sip. The woman was studying him closely.

"So, what's her name?"

"Her name… Oh, it's not that. I mean I do have a girlfriend, had one I mean. She broke my heart."

The woman nodded. "Yeah, I kinda thought so. You wanna talk about it, honey?"

Michael shook his head. "Nope, I don't wanna talk about it. I gotta go… I have someplace I need to go. Um…" He downed the drink.

He fished around drunkenly in his back pocket for his wallet and then pulled out some bills. He threw them onto the bar without counting them.

"Buy the lady a drink," he said as the bartender tried to hand him back a ten.

He made it to his car and slid behind the wheel. He knew he really shouldn't be driving in his state but it wasn't far, and if he took it slow he should be okay.

XXXXX

He stumbled up the front walk and leaned on the doorbell.

"Come on… opena door!"

He pushed it again and then once again for good measure. When this got no response he started banging loudly, his fist rapping on the hard wood.

He almost fell down when the door was ripped open in front of him.

"What the fuck, Mike! Heather's worried sick! "

Linc stood glaring at him from his side of the doorway, but his features softened as he took in Michael's drunken state.

"Can I come in? I really needa come in, Linc."

Linc sighed and moved aside to let him enter.

"What's going on Mike? Heather told me you and Sara had a fight."

Linc followed him as he made his way to the sofa and fell onto it none to gently. He lay back and closed his eyes just hoping the room would stop spinning a little. Six drinks in half an hour's time probably hadn't been such a good idea.

He opened an eye and looked at his friend. "Is zat all she toll you?"

Linc sat down across from him.

"What, there's more?"

Michael sighed and tried to sit up a little.

"Bro. I got dis blonde…She wans me…I mean she wans me to sing for er. Record some suff in Califor... Californa."

His words were sticking to the roof of his mouth a little, or at least it felt like they were.

Lincoln was studying him intently. "Let me get this straight, she wants you? Not the band?"

Michael shook his head, "Jus me, bro. I know she swrong, 'cause you guys sare my buddies… my famlee."

Lincoln was shaking his head. He leaned forward.

"Mike you gotta take this, man. You can't turn this down. Do you think I would…Or any of the guys for that matter? Hell no."

Michael was looking at him bleary eyed. "So I should take it? Fuck everybody else…Zat what you're sayin'?

Lincoln nodded. "Yeah, that's exactly what I'm sayin', Mike. You gotta go for it."

Linc was quiet for few beats and then, "Is that what your fight with Sara was about, about you leaving?

Michael wasn't listening to him anymore. His eyes were blinking heavily as he mumbled, "Yer okay wif me goin den, Linc?"

He paused for a few beats, "Den dere's nuffin' lef a keep me ere."

His eyes slipped shut and Lincoln took off his shoes and covered him with a throw that was draped along the chair arm.

That done, he grabbed his cell phone to call Heather, he had to let her know that her brother was all right.


	27. Chapter 27

(Michael)

Michael opened his eyes to the bleary sight of Lincoln standing over him. He put his hand over his eyes and flipped over onto his back.

"What time is it, man?"

Lincoln sighed. "It's almost 10:00. We have practice in a couple of hours, you gonna make it?"

Michael moved to sit up. "I don't know."

Lincoln set one of the steaming mugs of coffee he held in his hands down in front of Michael and took a seat across from him.

"You'll have tell the guys soon, you know?"

Michael looked up at him with clouded blue steel.

"Linc, I'm sorry I didn't tell you before last night. I just... This whole thing with Sara…"

"It's cool, man don't worry about it. And Sara? She'll come around. I mean lots of chicks freak out when their boyfriend's tell them they'll be takin' off for a while."

Michael shook his head. "Sara and me…it's over, man."

Lincoln studied him for a beat. "You don't mean that, Mike. I know you don't, you guys are…"

"I do mean it Linc…" Michael sighed and scraped a hand over his face and winced. His head was killing him. "Last night…She was with someone else…I saw them together."

Lincoln's eyes widened. "No, shit? Whew... man. Okay well, then, you…"

"I have no reason to stay." Michael finished for him and then moved to stand. "You got any aspirin or anything around here?"

"Yeah, sure, Bro."

Taking the hint that the conversation was over, Lincoln stood up and moved to the bathroom. He brought back three aspirin and handed them to Michael. Michael shoved them into his mouth and downed them with a gulp of coffee, unmindful of the heat of the beverage. He then grabbed his shoes and shoved them on. He looked up at Linc who was still watching him.

"Um, listen, Heather and Sara are…I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything to Heather about this stuff with Sara, you know?"

Linc nodded. "Yeah, it's cool."

"Thanks. Oh, and I'll be at practice, that is if I can shake this headache." Michael said as he moved to the door.

"Yeah, whatever you wanna do man."

Michael opened the door and then paused. He looked back at Lincoln. "Thanks for everything, Linc." Not waiting for a response he was out the door and headed down the front walk to his car.

(Sara)

Sara left the University administration office with a lump in her throat. Somehow the key in her hand finalized things. Her new dorm was ready and waiting for her, and she knew this was for the best. But still…She sighed and tucked the key into her pocket. She had a class to get to; a class she would sit through and then more likely then not still need to borrow notes for due to lack of concentration.

But how could she be expected to keep her mind on her studies with everything that had happened? Last night had been a nightmare she was still caught in the middle of. If not for Paul she wasn't sure what she would have done, where she would have gone. Still, she felt bad for interrupting his date, or whatever it was. The girl, Jen, had seemed nice too.

Sara pushed her hair out of her eyes and moved quickly through the wind swept quad. She hugged her jacket around her and picked up her pace.

"Sara, wait up!"

She looked behind her to see Heather running to catch up. Sara stopped to wait for her and then began to walk as Heather fell into step beside her.

"So you're really doing this then? "

The first words out of Heather's mouth were not surprising. When Sara had spoken with her on the phone that morning she had tried to talk her into coming home. But Sara had insisted this was for the best and then asked if Heather could pack her things up for her.

Sara nodded. "I have to, Heather. I can't do this anymore. I mean, I don't even know if Michael and I can work this out, but I can't take this. I can't even think anymore. I'm going to flunk out, I swear."

Heather was quiet for a beat and then, "Michael showed up drunk at Linc's last night."

Sara stopped in her tracks and looked over at her questioningly.

"He went to Paul's looking for you. Sara did something happen…I mean Linc said Mike was so drunk he could hardly talk."

Sara was confused, but her heart was pounding all the same.

"Heather, Michael never showed up at Paul's. And how did he even know I was going to be there?"

Heather looked down and then brought her eyes up to meet Sara's. "I guess I kind of mentioned to him that you might go there?"

Sara let out her breath. "Heather, God! How could you do that? What were you thinking?"

"I don't know! I guess I was thinking he could find you and you two could talk and work this out."

Sara could see how upset her friend was. And she knew this had to be hard for Heather, what with being caught in the middle like she was.

Sara sighed, "Its okay. I know you thought you were doing what was best, Heather. I just wish…" Sara glanced at her watch.

She was going to be late for class…again. "Listen, we're going to have to talk about this later, okay? I can't be late again."

Heather nodded. "Okay, yeah. Oh, I have your stuff in my trunk…so."

Sara nodded. "Okay, we'll meet up here after my last class?"

"Yeah okay…and Sara?"

Sara looked back at Heather. "I'm sorry if I made things worse, I didn't mean to."

Sara smiled softly, "I gotta go." And then with only minutes to spare, she headed off to her class.

(Michael)

Michael pushed open the door and stepped inside the quiet apartment. He was just getting home from a practice session his heart hadn't really been into. And to top it all off at the end of practice he had told the rest of the guys about the record deal he had been offered.

The news had gone over well, with the guys suggesting they celebrate and Michael hadn't the heart to tell them he wasn't in the mood for it, so here he was. He sighed and headed for his bedroom. His plan was to grab a quick shower before heading back out.

He was standing in front of his room; his hand paused on the door, his mind going over the many nights spent inside the four walls beyond with Sara in his arms. How was he supposed to sleep here knowing she was in someone else's bed, in someone else's arms?

Jaw clenched; eyes blue steel, he pushed open the door and walked passed the busted guitar, his eyes on anything other then the bed. He had been fighting with his emotions all day, anger and depression being the top contenders.

His eyes moved to the guitar again and he felt his anger surge forward knocking depression on its ass. He walked over to the mangled mess and kicked it sending it across the room with a clatter. Not good enough. He stalked over and grabbed it up only to slam it against the wall.

His breath was coming fast and his heart was racing with adrenaline, but he felt a little better, better then he had felt since looking through that window. How could she fuck someone else like that? One minute she was saying she was in love with him the next she was on some guys lap.

He turned and slammed his fist into the door. And it hurt like hell, but it felt good too. He let his eyes move to the bed, his vision blurred as he took in the messy sheets. He squeezed his eyes closed and then clutching his reddened hand he turned and left the room. He headed straight for the door and out to his car.

He would celebrate alright. He would have the time of his fucking life.


	28. Chapter 28

(Sara)

Sara was settled in and about as comfortable as one could be in a strange room with a new Goth roommate who seemed absolutely thrilled by her presence.

She sighed and grabbed her books, her intention to head out to the library to try to get her head around a paper that was due.

Her cell phone rang so she juggled her books onto her hip and dug it out of her pocket. 'Heather' was lit up in bright green. Sara flipped it open and brought it up to her ear.

"Hey, Heather, what's up?" She said trying for cheerful, but failing miserably.

"Hey, how's the new place?"

Sara sighed and looked over at her new 'roomie' Penelope. Her head phones were blaring so loudly Sara could almost make out the doom filled lyrics of the Goth music from across the room.

"It's a dorm room, Heather, not the Ritz."

"New roommate sucks, huh? Well you can always just come home, you know?"

Sara closed her eyes, her patience wearing thin. "No, Heather I can't just come home." She was trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice, but she was tired and it had been a long day.

"Jeez, you don't have to be so snappy. And you could come home. You could come home and talk to my brother instead of running away from him." Heather said angrily. "What are you going to do, let him leave with things like this between you?"

Sara let out her breath and blinked back her tears. "I don't want to talk about this right now Heather."

Silenced flowed unbroken through the line and then, "Well if you decide you want to talk to him, there's a celebration for him tonight at Club Kid."

Sara was shaking her head. "I can't, Heather…"

She heard her friend sigh. "K, then, guess I'll see you tomorrow."

And then the phone went dead in her ear.

(Later)

(Michael)

Michael tipped back the shot and let the warmth flow through his body, each ounce of the fiery liquid making him care less and less about anything except the next numbing drop.

He set the glass down and took up another. They seemed to magically appear out of nowhere. He swallowed down another shot and let his eyes move to the two girls at a table nearby. They had been eying him all night.

He raised his glass to them and tipped it back. How many shots did that make? Ah, who was counting? All that mattered was he was having a good time. So far he was, and by the looks of things it could only get better.

He pushed away from the table leaving the conversation he hadn't really been participating in anyways and walked to the table with the two blonds.

They blatantly sized him up and then without a word pulled out a chair for him.

"Promise not to take advantage of me?" He teased with a slow smile and then dropped into the seat.

"The two looked at each other and then back at him.

"We promise to do whatever you want, Michael." The one on his left said, as her hand landed on his thigh.

"So you know my name, huh?" He wasn't shocked by this in the least.

She nodded. "Of course we know who you are, we love Fluid Pain. I'm Jeanine, and this is Kirsty." She said smiling towards her friend.

"Hey, Mike," Kirsty said, and leaned in closer giving him a look that said it all.

These two were good to go and all he had to do was say when and where.

He picked up Kirsty's drink and downed half of it. And then with a little difficulty he moved to stand.

"Let's go, girls."

He walked passed Heather and Linc's table, not noticing the dirty looks Heather was shooting him. He had an arm around each girl as they headed for the back room, their arms around his waist anchoring him.

Once backstage, he shut the door and led them to the large sofa. He plopped down and looked up at them through heavy lidded eyes. They were staring at him like they wanted to eat him, and he was definitely in the mood to be eaten.

He smiled sexily holding out a hand to each of them, which they eagerly took, and then he was pulling them down beside him. He let his eyes move over first one then the other taking in their sexy attire.

The silence in the room was tinged with a sexual energy that couldn't be denied, as Jeanine, or at least he thought it was Jeanine, leaned over him to get to Kirsty.

He watched as the two's lips met in a sensual kiss, and their fingers sought each other out.

Not wanting to leave him out of the mix, Kirsty's hand moved along his thigh to stroke the hard length of him. And then they were both leaning over him their tongues dancing.

Damn...

He reached and let his fingers run along the tight shirts in front of him stroking the hard buds beneath making backs arch against his efforts, breaking their kiss.

They looked at him and then he reached for Kirsty, his fingers in her hair as he brought her mouth to his. As she delved her tongue into him he felt Jeanine's finger's moving along his chest up under his shirt. And then he pulled away from Kirsty to taste Jeanine.

Her mouth was hot on his as Kirsty began unbuttoning his shirt tag team style. These two had definitely been there and done that many times over.

He felt the cool air hit his chest and then Kirsty's warm lips as she started at his collar bone and moved down tasting him inch by inch.

He leaned back and closed his eyes as their hands moved over him, each stroke making him forget everything but the moment. And he so wanted to forget.

He reached to touch them his hands moving over warm flesh, firm breasts. When had their clothes come off?

Kirsty moved over him to Jeanine and he watched as the two delighted in each other, each stroke; each kiss on tanned skin a vision leaving him wanting.

He watched for a while his eyes darkening with each passing beat.

And then he reached for them. Without protest they were back at him, and Kirsty's mouth was his again for the taking.

He delved into her, their tongues hot against each other, as he reached blindly for Jeanine and pushed her head down.

He heard the sound of his zipper join fast breath and then the door to the back room came open.

"Michael, what the hell do you think you're doing?"


	29. Chapter 29

Michael's eyes opened lazily. Heather was standing over them with her hands on her hips glaring daggers at the two girls in his lap.

"Get off of him and get out!"

The girls scrambled for their bras and shirts and hurriedly put them on as they made their way out the door. Michael sighed and zipped up his pants.

"Heather… Not cool."

"Not cool, did my wonder of a brother just say something was not cool? I'll tell you what's not cool, Michael. This is not cool," she said sweeping her hand across him.

"This whole thing you're doing here is not cool. What if it had been Sara to walk in on this little threesome you had going? Did you ever consider that she might show up here tonight? I mean, I did invite her, you know?"

His eyes narrowed at this. "Why did you do that?"

Heather looked at him in exasperation. "Why? Why, because she's your girlfriend and you need to work out what ever this shit is that is tearing the two of you apart, that's why!"

Michael sat forward and started trying to button his shirt.

"There's nothing to work out, Heather."

He was fumbling in his drunkenness; the one button he had managed in the wrong button hole making the shirt hang crooked.

Heather sat down and swatted his hands aside, so he leaned back to let her do it. She started at the top and began buttoning him up.

"I don't believe that and neither do you, Michael."

It took him a second to remember what had just been said.

"I do mean it, Heather. It's over." He scraped a hand along his face, up over his head and met his sister's eyes.

Finished with the buttons, she sat back from him and shook her head. "You love her, I know you do, Michael. I've seen the way you are with her, the way you look at her. And she loves you… I heard her say it myself."

Michael shook his head. "It doesn't matter, Heather. I'm leaving, and…"

"So you're just going to leave it like this? Michael, Sara thinks you slept with Veronica, did you? I mean after walking in on this…"

Michael's jaw clenched. "I didn't fuck anyone. Maybe you should be having this little conversation with your friend Sara?"

Heather gave him a confused look. "Sara? What are you talking about?"

Michael sighed and turned his cool eyes to the door not facing her, trying to close off like he always did when it came to talking to her about his problems.

"Like I said, talk to your friend, and then tell me I did something wrong here tonight."

He moved to stand, staggered, and almost fell back onto the sofa. Heather studied him for a few beats and then stood up beside him.

"You think Sara slept with Paul, don't you?"

When Michael refused to answer she continued. "Sara wouldn't do that. She isn't like that and you should know that by now, Michael. Why would you even think that?"

He turned to her, his eyes hot blue steel. "Because I saw them, Heather, alright!?... I saw them that night..." This last was spoken low, as if defeated.

He sank back onto the couch and put his face into his hands. Heather stood frozen, her shock at his words clear upon her face. After a few beats she sat down and forced his hands away from his face making him look at her.

He met her eyes, her face blurred from his hot tears, but he wouldn't let them fall.

"It's over, Heather. There's nothing left to save."

They had been sitting quietly for a few minutes when she finally spoke.

"She isn't there anymore, you know, at Paul's? She's back at the dorms."

Michael sat looking at his hands. He shook his head. It didn't matter. He knew his sister was just trying to fix things for him, trying to make him feel better, but all he could think about was another drink, something to numb him until this all went away.

He looked up at her, the tears no longer threatening; his eyes dead.

"I'm calling Jane Barrow tomorrow to set things up... I just need to get out of here. "

Heather nodded. He had never seen her eyes so serious.

Tomorrow when he was sober he would hate himself for putting her in the middle like this. He would regret all of this. But tonight the booze and his pain had made him selfish, made him drag her into his mess of a life.

He took great care in standing up this time, his intentions to go get that drink.

"Michael?" Heather stood up beside him, her slim finger's wrapping around his arm.

He turned to her.

"I'm…" Her face crumpled as her eyes filled with tears.

He reached and pulled her close, his heart aching from what this was doing to her, from the pain he could hear in her voice when she finally forced the words out, "I'm going to miss you so much!"

He gulped back his own tears and stroked her hair. "I'm going to miss you too, Heather Bear."

(The next morning)

Michael put down the phone, and leaned back cupping his aching head. His hang over was still going strong. And while this should have been one of the most exciting moments in his life it felt more like someone had died, like a part of him had died.

Even the enthusiasm Jane Barrow had greeted his news with hadn't elicited much response. He didn't think he had cracked so much as a smile the entire conversation.

He thought now of her promise to get back to him as soon as everything had been worked out. Well it couldn't be soon enough for him. He wanted out of this place.

His eyes drifted to the closed door of his bedroom and back to the sofa across from him, which wasn't much better. In fact every room in the apartment haunted him with her smile, her laugh; the sent of her... It seemed wherever he went there was something to remind him of Sara...And not just here. It was like that everywhere.

And then there was last night… He sighed and picked up the bottle in front of him hoping to wash the taste from his mouth that had lingered there since his conversation with Heather. He hated that he would be leaving her. And he had hated it even more to see her crying like that over him.

Until last night he hadn't given too much thought to how his leaving might affect his sister. Now he chalked his insensitivity up to more selfishness on his part. But then he was good at that; being selfish and insensitive.

He tipped back the bottle and swallowed another large gulp. He put the cap back on and set it aside. He had practice soon, and while his days might be numbered as a member of Fluid Pain, they did have a gig to play that night and he wanted to spend as much time with his friends... and Heather, as possible.

With a new resolve he leaned back and closed his eyes, but before long they were open again and staring at the bottle of whiskey.

He reached for it and unscrewed the top, telling himself it was early yet, and he did have all day to sober up. He tipped it back and let the welcome heat fill him.

He didn't hear the door opening; in fact he didn't realize that he was no longer alone in the apartment until the door was clicking shut.

(Sara)

Sara took a deep breath and slid her key into the lock. She was hoping to get in and out quickly without running into anyone, anyone being Michael. When Heather brought her things Sara hadn't realized the note pad wasn't amongst the many books and other note pads. It was only this morning she had realized it was missing. And Heather hadn't returned her call, so here she was.

Maybe Michael was still asleep? Probably wishful thinking since he had practice soon, but waiting for him to leave hadn't been an option; she needed those notes for her next class.

She pushed the door open quietly, and quickly shut it behind her. The apartment was completely silent making her hopeful that he wasn't around. But the held breath rushed out of her when she turned around. He was sitting in the chair across from the sofa staring at her intently.

"Um, hi, um, I um, forgot something…my um, notes." She stumbled through the sentence, and when he didn't say anything she moved further into the room.

She pushed her hair back behind her ears and rifled unsuccessfully through a stack of magazines, before letting her eyes move over the room. No notepad. Her gaze then came to rest on the closed bedroom door. She stared at it for a moment very aware of Michael's eyes which hadn't left her once. He was just sitting and sipping from the bottle in his hand, each tip of his hand making her more nervous.

She made her feet move and then she was pushing open the door. She looked at the bed, and then quickly away telling herself she needed to stay focused, just get her note pad and get out. She made her way to the stacks of Musician's friend's and Guitar world's and rifled through them quickly. No notepad.

She was starting to think it wasn't there when she saw the periwinkle blue cover sticking out from under the edge of the bed. She bent and grabbed it up with relief. She was turning around to leave when she heard the bedroom door swing closed.

"Um, I found it," she said feeling stupid as she tried to fake a casual tone.

She was nervous and she knew her voice was sure to give her away.

He still hadn't spoken and she wished he would just say something, anything. But the silence in the room was unbroken but for the blood pounding in her ears as her heart sped with each passing second.

He was leaning against the closed door still holding the bottle in his hand when she stepped forward. She had to get out of that room; she would push him out of the way if she had to. Her stride purposeful, she stopped in front of him.

"I have to go, Michael, I have a class in about twenty minutes."

"Maybe your buddy Paul can fill you in on what you miss?" His voice was cold on whiskey tinged breath.

Sara shook her head. "I can't do this now... I'm practically failing half of my classes, Michael. I can't afford to miss this lecture."

She tried to push passed him, but he wouldn't budge.

"Please…just…"

She closed her eyes for a moment needing a break from the intensity of his eyes.

"Please just let me go, okay?" She opened her tear glazed eyes and met his imploringly. "I can't keep doing this, Michael…I can't."

She leaned her head forward her hair falling to cover her face. And then he was brushing it aside, his fingers grazing her cheek, making her look up at him.

Their eyes locked for a moment and then his hand wound around her neck, pulling her mouth down on his. The kiss was rough, but only because of the stubble peppering his unshaven cheeks, his lips were gentle.

She felt herself getting lost in the feel, the taste of him, and then she was up against the door, the whisky bottle and the notepad crashing to the floor as his hands moved over her body, pulling at her clothes, his mouth no longer so gentle, but insistent.

She knew she couldn't let this happen, it wouldn't fix anything. She pushed at him, "Michael stop," her voice was trembling, but he didn't seem to notice or care that this wasn't what she wanted.

"Michael, Stop!" She said again and shoved him hard making him stumble.

She turned and tried to open the door, and she did get it open part way, but he reached and slammed it shut in her face.

She turned to face him, her back against the door.

"So, what, you can fuck him, but not me? Is that how it is now?" His words were like acid, the intent to destroy.

"What?" Sara felt the tears in her eyes tipping from her lids in a cool cascade down her hot flushed cheeks.

She looked at him, her anger and confusion growing. "I don't know what you're talking about, Michael. I didn't sleep with anyone. Yes, I stayed at Paul's…for one night. But I left…I'm back at the dorms now, you can ask Heather if you don't believe me."

His eyes were hot blue steel, his words spoken with deadly calm. "I saw you."

"What? I don't know what that means…"

"How about some truth, Sara…I'll start. The night I went home with Veronica? Nothing happened, I slept on her couch. But then the next morning... I let her kiss me. And I wanted to fuck her, I did…I honestly did. But I stopped it. I do have some self control, believe it or not."

Sara felt the tears rolling unchecked down her cheeks as each word pierced her heart, making it harder to breathe.

"More honesty? Last night I was with two blonds at the club, but I didn't fuck them either. I would have, but Heather busted that one up. She seemed to think I was fucking things up with you. Too bad she wasn't there the night you let your friend Paul fuck you."

Sara had been standing there taking it, her anger growing with every seething word that left his mouth, but at his last words she lashed out, her hand coming up slapping the mean smile off his face.

He reached and touched the reddening mark that was blossoming on his cheek.

"I don't know what you think you saw, but it wasn't me. I didn't fuck Paul or anyone else. I love you, and I wouldn't do that to someone I love."

She squeezed her eyes closed against the pain and anger, fighting to hold back the sobs that threatened. She opened her eyes and met his unwavering stare.

"Just go to California, Michael, because I can't do this anymore."

She turned to the door and buried her face in her hands. "I can't take this anymore…"

She felt her shoulders start to shake and then his hands gently land upon her back.

"Sara…I…"

She struggled with the door and to her amazement he let her open it this time.

She ran blindly to the door and out into the spring sunshine.


	30. Chapter 30

(Michael)

Michael pushed the door closed and banged his fists into it angrily. The words he had said to her, the pain and anger in her eyes at his accusations tearing through him… "I know what I saw…" His voice sounded raw to his own ears. Why was she lying? And why was she so damn good at it?

The thing was he almost did believe her. He wanted to believe her so badly. But even if he did, he had a feeling it was too late. She wanted him to leave, to go to California. She was about to lose her scholarship because of him, because of this…

He banged his head into the hard wood; his anger needing an outlet no matter the pain, no matter the damage.

Then his head aching even more, he placed his palms flat against the door and leaned with the top of his head coming to rest against it. He stayed like that for some time. Until the muted chirping of his cell phone buried in his pocket pulled him out of his funk.

He turned and leaning his back against the door he fished it out. He didn't recognize the number but flipped it open and brought it to his ear.

"Yeah?" His voice still sounded off to himself, but the woman on the other end of the line either didn't notice or she simply didn't care.

"Michael? It's Jane Barrow."

She didn't wait for a response but plowed along. "Everything is set. We want you here a.s.a.p. everything has been arranged. You'll have everything you need by the end of the day, flight information… the works."

Michael had been listening quietly, but suddenly he found his voice. "When do I leave?"

Jane laughed, a throaty sound echoing through him with finalty. "How does tomorrow grab you?"

"Tomorrow sounds great."

He listened with only half an ear as his eyes moved to the bed and then down to the note pad at his feet. And then leaning down he grabbed the whiskey bottle up.

As he unscrewed the cap he couldn't help but think that tomorrow sounded more then great, it sounded perfect.

(Sara)

Sara pushed open the door to her dorm room and sighed in relief. Her dreadful roommate Penelope was nowhere to be seen. She had been worried that the girl might be sleeping off another late night out with her friends.

Sara made her way to her bed, and kicking off her shoes she crawled in. Her class was already well under way and she couldn't care less. All she wanted was to bury her head under a pillow and try not to think about what had just happened. What had just happened? She swiped at her tears and sighed, it was a lost cause, she was doomed to think of nothing but, and she knew it.

The things he had said to her…about Veronica and the two girls last night. Had Michael told her those things just to hurt her? Because it had worked, she felt like a piece of her had been ripped out and left there to die.

But why would he want to hurt her like that? His words came back to her now, his accusations. Michael had seemed convinced that she slept with Paul that night, that he had seen them together, but she hadn't done anything wrong. And then it hit her, the girl…what was her name?

Sara pushed her hair back from her sticky face and forced herself to think. "Jen," That was it, the girl's name was Jen.

The girl had been acting strange, embarrassed, like something was going on. Sara could remember feeling like she had interrupted something. So maybe they had been intimate, and maybe Michael had seen Jen with Paul?

She sighed. What did it matter? Michael would never believe it wasn't her. And the things he had been up to…She choked back a sob. She needed to talk to Heather, and though she knew it wasn't fair of her to keep dragging her friend into the middle of all of this, she had no one else she could talk to.

She sat up and wiped her wet cheeks on her sheet. And then fishing her cell phone out of her pocket she punched in Heather's number.

"Come on, Heather, pick up," she mumbled.

She sighed when the call went to voice mail and Heather's recorded voice hit her ear.

She listened disheartened and then left a quick message for Heather to please call her back asap. And then flipping the phone closed she lay back onto the bed to wait and to think.

(Later)

"Are you sure this is safe, Heather?" Sara's eyes darted around the trashed park looking for what; she didn't know, maybe a crazed homeless person strung out on crack? While the place appeared deserted, she couldn't help but remember the night she had been there with Michael and Heather.

"It's fine Sara. I mean I wouldn't walk around barefoot, too many old needles, but we'll be safe enough. So what's up, what was so urgent that it was worth my skipping class?"

Sara studied her friend's closed off expression, the way her arms were crossed over her chest defensively. And she couldn't help but feel confused, was Heather upset with her for some reason?

"Um, I really just needed to talk, Michael and I had another fight and…"

"Hold up, Sara, I might not be the best person for you to be talking to about this. I mean after what you did…"

Sara's eyebrows shot up. "After what I did? Heather I didn't do anything! Michael's the one who messed around with Veronica… and he told me about those two blonds you caught him with."

"Yeah, I stopped that before it really got started… you can thank me later for that. Right now why don't you tell me why you did it, Sara? Why did you sleep with Paul Kellerman?"

Sara looked at her unblinking, and then sighed in defeat, "I didn't sleep with Paul. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you don't believe me either. I mean why would you? Michael saw me, right? I mean that's what he said, right?"

Heather nodded; her eyes hard to read. "Yeah, he told me, Sara."

"Well it isn't true. I mean Michael did see someone with Paul but it wasn't me, I swear, Heather."

Heather laughed, "Yeah, right, Sara, so what, you have a twin sister running around somewhere now?" Her tone was incredulous and tinged with sarcasm.

"Do you know a red head named Jen? No? Well Paul does. And she was the one he was with that night, not me. I saw her there myself, she was leaving his apartment when I got there, Heather."

Heather was looking at her, the doubt clear upon her face, but her posture was more relaxed, more open.

"I swear, Heather. You know me. I would never do something like that, think about it… please?"

Heather took a deep breath and let it out. "So, if this girl, Jen was the one with Paul she would probably be in at least one of his classes, right?"

Sara nodded. "Yeah, I guess, I mean he did give her some notes when she left, so yeah, definitely, why?"

"So we should be able to find her right?" Heather was looking at her expectantly.

"Yeah, or I could just ask Paul who she was?"

Heather shook her head. "Just let me take care of it okay?"

Sara felt relief flood through her. "I think that would be really great, Heather.

After a beat, "But what are you going to say to her when you find her?"

Heather just smiled. "Like I said, I'll take care of it."

(Michael...That same night)

Michael wiped the sweat from his forehead, his vision slightly blurred from too much alcohol and not enough sleep.

He looked out at the packed club and closing his eyes he waited for a semblance of quiet to fall over the crowd.

"We have a new song, something we've been working on for a while, but I was being lazy about writing the lyrics. Well, I started writing this a couple of days ago, and I finally finished it today…and yeah, I was drunk."

This was met by hoots and hollers throughout the club. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Anyways, this is the last song before we break, it's called Plasma."

He closed his eyes waiting as the music began, and then his voice filled the expectant room, "I don't want to feel this way, I don't want to pretend that these feelings don't exist. But I'm aware, yet so afraid I'll make mistakes I'll always regret… And by the way, would it be O.K., if we went our separate ways, just to see…"

He opened his eyes, his grip on the mic hard, his knuckles white, the song barely fed to his memory but forever embedded in his soul.

"I don't want to hide the truth, but I can see you through jaded eyes… my faded broken gaze…It strays away, and I am afraid that I'll make mistakes I'll always regret…And by the way, would it be O.K., if we went our separate ways…'Cause I can't breathe…Sometimes I think that these chains can be broken…And I can see your eyes, your lying through your teeth and I'm aware, this isn't fair…And by the way, would it be O.K., if we went our separate ways…To see if in time the shades are drawn back again…The light reflects upon what might have been…But until then, would it be O.K. if we went our seperate ways..."

He let his head fall forward as the music ended, and then he dropped the mic, applause trailing him as he jumped from the stage and moved towards the bar.

(Sara)

Sara watched Michael jump from the stage and stepped back, brushing the tears from her cheeks.

She didn't want him to see her like this, crying over the words he had written; words that said goodbye, and so much more…so much pain.

She watched from the shadows as he ordered a drink and tossed it back. And then he just stood there holding the empty glass in his long fingers.

She held her breath waiting for him to turn around and see her there, but the seconds ticked away and it didn't happen. Instead he signaled the bartender and ordered another drink.

She watched as he waited for it, and then drink in hand, he headed for the back room.

She stood there fighting the urge to follow him, knowing it would only end in another fight, nothing had changed since she'd last seen him, Heather hadn't spoken to him yet.

In fact Heather still hadn't shown up, and she had promised to be there before the band's last song when Sara spoke with her earlier.

She glanced worriedly at her watch and then let her eyes move to the door. She sighed in relief as Heather walked in and looked around obviously searching for someone amongst the many club patrons.

Sara was moving forward, intending to make her way to the door, but she stopped when she recognized the girl who stepped out from behind Heather.

It was Jen.

(Song: Plasma by Sinch)


	31. Chapter 31

(Sara)

"Sara, you remember Jen?"

Sara was staring at the woman who had inadvertently had a hand in ruining her life, and she was finding words hard to come by.

She just nodded her head dumbly, as Heather turned to Jen.

"You ready?"

Jen looked around nervously. "I guess so… I mean I don't really have much of a choice do I?"

Sara's eyes were still on Jen, but they suddenly shot to  
Heather. "What? Heather…"

Heather held up her hand. "You said you wanted her to clear things up right? Well let's just say I had to convince her it was the right thing to do and leave it at that, okay?"

"Look, I just want to get this over with, alright?" Jen looked like she would rather be anywhere else.

Sara clamped her mouth closed. She had no idea what was going on; how Heather had managed to force this woman who was obviously not so willing to do this to come here tonight, but she was grateful.

She turned to Jen her face conveying just how much this meant. "Um, thank you for…Thank you for this. I mean…"

Jen just nodded, the hardness in her eyes dimming a little as her face softened.

"Okay then, now all we have to do is find my brother." Heather said looking around with a grin.

They were just outside the closed door to one of the back rooms when Sara grabbed Heather's arm.

"Wait, I can't go in there. I don't think I can do this. I mean maybe I should just wait out here in the hall?"

"Yeah, okay. I mean if that's what you want. But promise me you won't take off, Sara. Mike's gonna want to talk to you and…"

Sara nodded. "I won't, I promise. I just…I need a minute, okay?"

Heather nodded and turned to open the door but Sara grabbed her arm again and pulled her into a hug.

"Heather, thank you."

After a beat she pulled away blinking back tears, and then she stepped aside as Heather opened the door and went in with Jen following close behind.

(Michael)

Michael leaned back and closed his eyes, the glass held loosely in his right hand almost empty, but for an inch of whiskey and the remnants of ice cubes.

When he jumped off the stage it was to get away, his emotions had been on high, but the call of the bar and what it offered, had been too strong a pull. Now he was feeling it. But at least he wasn't thinking about his fucked up situation. He just hoped he could make it onto his feet for the last set, whenever that was. He seemed to have lost track of time somewhere between getting his drink and heading back stage.

He opened an eye at the sound of the door coming open and watched as Heather made her way towards him.

"Hey, Sis, you made it." His grin was sloppy on his face as he sat up a little.

Heather stopped in front of him and looked down at him. "You're drunk again?"

He raised his eyebrows, "Jus a little?"

Heather sighed and put her hands on her hips.

"What? At least I'm alone this time."

Heather ignored him and stepped aside letting his eyes fell on the girl standing behind her. He took in the pale skin and red hair. She resembled Sara…a lot. He blinked in confusion, his gaze traveling back to Heather.

"Mike, this is Jen, Jen this is my brother Michael. Why don't you tell him what you told me," she glanced at her watch, "Oh, half an hour ago?"

Jen was looking at him nervously, her hands held tightly together in front of her.

"Um, I'm ah, I'm a friend of Paul Kellerman's," she began in a soft voice, "A good friend." She looked away at this, her eyes landing somewhere by Michael's feet.

He studied her in confusion, her words not processing in his pickled brain. So she was a friend of that asshole Paul Kellerman…So what? And then it dawned on him what she was saying. The drink slid from his fingers unnoticed and clattered to the floor, ice and whiskey in a pool on the carpet.

She was a friend of Paul's; a friend who resembled Sara…A friend who would look identical to her from behind.

He sat forward, suddenly more sober then he had been in days. "It was you I saw? You were on the couch with him that night?"

She looked up and met his eyes a blush coming up on her cheeks. "Yeah, that was me."

And then she turned to Heather. "Can I please go now? My husband is going to wonder where I am."

Heather nodded and the woman turned to go.

"Jen?"

She looked back at them.

"Thanks for doing this, I know I was a bit of a bitch to you, but I had to get you here some way. I hope you understand. And I never would have told your husband…I'm not like that."

Jen just nodded and headed for the door. She couldn't get out of there fast enough.

Michael's eyes were on Heather taking in everything she had just said. So Heather had forced this woman to come tonight? He felt a surge of love for his sister and gulped it back down with the tears that hit his eyes.

And then he was jumping to his feet. Heather grabbed his arm.

"Whoa, where do you think you are going?"

Michael's eyes met his sister's. "I have to see her, Heather. I have to talk to her. I fucked up... I have to..." When the door opened the words died on his lips.

(Sara)

When Jen rushed from the room without so much as a glance in her direction, Sara made her move. She didn't think she could wait another moment to find out what had been said.

All the same she found herself hesitating outside the door her hand on the knob, unsure if she could actually make herself do it. She wasn't even sure what she wanted anymore. She still loved Michael, yes, but so much had happened making her wonder if things could ever be the same between them.

Refusing to let herself chicken out, telling herself, at the very least she wanted to see what he had to say now that the truth was out, she closed her eyes and turned the knob pushing open the door.

She stepped inside the room, her eyes locking instantly on Michael's. He was standing next to Heather his eyes intense.

She moved forward a little and then he was coming towards her. When he was a few feet from her, she held up her hand to stop him from coming any closer, needing to distance herself.

"Michael…" "Sara… I…" They were both speaking at once.

"You go first," he offered, his voice low.

Sara looked to Heather who was standing behind him.

"Ah, I'm outta here." She glanced at her watch. "Their last set is in about half an hour…He kinda should be there."

Sara nodded. "Yeah, okay."

And then Heather was out the door, shutting it softly behind her.

The silence filled up the room as their eyes continued to dance with each flutter of their lids. She was the first to look away, her eyes focusing somewhere just over his left shoulder.

"So you met Jen."

This wasn't a question but he answered anyways. "I met Jen," after a few beats… "Sara, I'm so sorry…I know I messed this up… I know you probably hate me now, but..."

Sara shook her head. "I don't hate you Michael. But you hurt me…you really hurt me." Her eyes filled with tears and she let them fall through veiled lids as she looked down at her feet.

She knew he was hurting too. She could hear it in his voice, and she felt like she couldn't breathe when she was looking at him, the pain was so evident in his eyes.

She forced herself to look up when he moved closer. And then her eyes were meeting tear brightened blue. He was only a foot away at best, so close yet so far.

"Please say we can fix this, Sara... say you still want this…you still want us."

She shook her head. "I don't know what I want anymore, Michael."

"Don't…don't say that, Sara. I know I fucked up. I hurt you. I don't deserve you…"

His tears fell down his cheeks and she ached to reach and brush them away. But she held still, silent, her eyes never leaving him.

"Sara, I…" He ran a hand over his head and swallowed hard as more tears fell. "I'm in love with you...I love you so much…I can't lose you. Please... say that I haven't lost you."

She felt breathless at his words. She looked down breaking eye contact. "Michael…I…" And then he was there cupping her face in his hands, making her look at him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. And I won't leave, if you just…"

She shook her head. "I can't be the reason you stay, Michael. I can't be the reason you give up your dream. You would hate me for it someday." She looked into his eyes. "I care too much about you to let you do that."

His face swam before her teary eyes. She blinked them away and he was suddenly closer, his lips gently meeting hers in a tender kiss. He pulled back a little, his mouth still so close, "Say you'll wait for me, Sara. I'll come back. I'll go record... and then I'll come back."

He pulled back a little more his eyes searching hers for an answer. She wanted to say yes, that she would wait for him, but she didn't know anymore.

"Please, Sara. I won't go unless you promise me you'll wait. I'll stay here and make you love me again." His voice broke a little and she knew how hard this was for him, to be so vulnerable.

"I do love you Michael. I never stopped loving you..."

"Then wait for me. I'll make this up to you I swear." He was looking at her, his eyes brimming with fresh tears, waiting for her. And she believed he would wait for her answer; he would give up everything he ever hoped for to make this up to her, to make this right.

And then she had her answer, his answer. How could she not wait for him?

She nodded. And then his lips were on hers, gentle yet insistent, their tears mixing as one as his arms pulled her close.

(Michael)

"As most of you probably know I'm leaving soon…tomorrow in fact. So this'll be my last song as a member of Fluid Pain. We had a hell of time," Michael smiled and looked around at his band mates, his eyes meeting Lincoln's last, holding on for just a beat. And then he was looking out at the audience again.

"Anyways, this is an old one. But somebody out there must still like it, 'cause it was requested. This is Passive resistor."

The crowd filled the gap and then the music swelled and grew drowning them out. "Cozy in this home, burnt up swollen pains…Fear is on the plate but you can't recognize the danger that you've gotten yourself in…Do as I'm told not for long…But on the mattress, I had a good time…  
I can't remember… she wore the same brands as everyone else…That's why I don't mind... if she deciphers the lines…"

His voice was strong as he belted the lyrics out into the club.

"Welcome to the despair, this is my trophy room…And fear is on the plate but you can't recognize the anger as it builds beneath the skin…'Cause it's fucking mine…But on the mattress, I had a good time  
I can't remember, she wore the same brands... as everyone else…That's why I don't mind, if she deciphers the lines…"

The song ended and this time he jumped from the stage and headed straight for the table in front, his arms going around her pulling her against him, as the crowd filled his ears one last time.

(Song: Passive resistor by Sinch.)


	32. Chapter 32

(Michael)

Michael looked at her as she drove, the lights on her fair skin playing across her features, the curve of her cheek, the fullness of her bottom lip stroking it lightly with each passing motorist.

He couldn't believe she was here with him, driving him home.

When she walked into the back room earlier that night his tongue had frozen, and then once he started speaking it seemed he couldn't shut up. He had let everything out, all of what he was feeling, what he should have told her before this mess began, but was too foolish to voice.

He watched her now and he vowed he would never do that again. He wouldn't muck it up. He would go to LA and then come home and somehow convince her to come back there with him.

She caught him staring and smiled a little, her mouth looking so inviting, so tempting. He wanted her so badly just then, but he wouldn't push things to go there tonight. He would let her set the pace.

He smiled back at her and leaned his head against the seat continuing to stare openly.

"You shouldn't distract me, Scofield, I'm practically night blind, you know?"

He laughed low in his throat. "I didn't know that. Does that mean I can sneak up on you in the dark like this; he leaned in despite his resolutions, unable to resist kissing her.

They were stopped at a red light. She turned and cupped his face, her lips soft against his in the dim car.

"So this is how you sneak up on a girl, huh?" She said softly pulling away to look into his eyes.

"Uh huh," he leaned and nibbled softly on her lip.

And then a car horn honked behind them making her jump. He smiled and leaned back in his seat as she moved forward through the intersection.

It wasn't long before she pulled up in front of the apartment and shut off the engine. After a few seconds of silence the interior light winked off leaving them in darkness.

"I could come in," she said softly. "I mean we could talk…have coffee?" She sounded nervous suddenly.

"I'd like that." Anything so she didn't leave. He just wanted to look at her, maybe hold her in his arms if she would let him. And coffee would be good; it would help sober him up.

She swung open the car door and he followed suit. And then they were headed up the walk to the front door, his hand snaking out to grab hers from where it swung at her side.

Her fingers closed over his hand giving it a gentle squeeze, and then they were at the door.

(Sara)

Three cups of coffee in her system later, Sara could barely keep her eyes open. She and Michael had talked about everything, leaving nothing out. He had opened up to her, sharing his feelings. How he had believed she slept with Paul and what that had done to him. How it had torn him apart, making him drink too much, making him act like an idiot...his words.

Then it had been her turn to open up and she had matched his honesty with her own, telling him that it would take some time for things to be the same between them, but that she was willing to wait for him, she was willing to try, and that maybe some time apart would be best for both of them. His solemn nod at this had nearly broken her heart, but he had agreed.

And now here they were, lying quietly together on the beer stained sofa, in each other's arms, but without so much as a kiss shared between them.

Sara yawned and snuggled against him.

"I wasn't sure if you were still awake." His low voice broke the silence in the room.

"Mm, hmmm," she sighed softly. "But just barely."

"Me too," he leaned and brushed his lips lightly against her hair.

She looked up at him, her coppery eyes meeting sleepy blue.

"We could go into the bedroom and…I mean we would be more comfortable on the bed."

He rubbed his hand along her bare arm stopping just below her shirt sleeve. "We could, but I don't want this to go any further then your ready for it to go, Sara. And if we do go to bed…"

Sara smiled and moved forward, her lips falling on his in a soft kiss. And then she was pulling away. "It'll go where it goes, Michael. No more, no less."

With that having been said, she climbed to her feet and held out her hand to him. He looked at her for a moment and then reached and took it.

Once on his feet, they moved towards the bedroom door, the sunrise through the window illuminating their way.

XXXXX

(Sara)

Sara awakened with his arms around her, her head rising and falling with each inhalation of breath taken into his body. He was still asleep, she was sure of this as she lay silently in his arms.

Her eyes moved to the clock. It was almost noon. He would be leaving that evening at 7:00. This time tomorrow he would be well over a thousand miles away.

She leaned her face closer to his t-shirt clad chest and breathed deep, the sent of him reminding her that this would be the last time she would awaken in his arms for a while.

After moving into the bedroom they had climbed into bed, their arms finding each other. But that had been about the extent of it. She knew he was letting her set the pace for the both of them, and though a huge part of her wanted to be more intimate, she had held back.

Instead they had talked some more. She had listened as he promised to come to her graduation in June. No matter what the record company had him doing, he had insisted he would get away somehow.

Sara lay there thinking of it now. It was only two months away, but it seemed like forever.

But she had meant what she said, that the time spent apart would do them both some good. She could get her head back into her studies and he could concentrate on his music. They would go from there. She would have the summer off, and while She knew she would have to look for a job, she was hoping maybe she could find one in LA… that is if he even asked her to go back there with him.

She felt his breathing change and lifted her head to meet his sleepy blue eyes.

"Hey, sleepy head," she said softly.

"Hey, yourself, beautiful," his sleepy, deep voice made her smile.

She leaned up to kiss him gently on the lips, and then pulled back.

After a beat, "We should get up. Get some breakfast or something, maybe call Heather and Linc?"

She disentangled herself from him reluctantly and sat up. He didn't move instead he pulled her back down next to him, his serious eyes moving from the clock and then back to her face.

"Seven hours, Sara."

She nodded. "I know, Michael."

He leaned in and placed his lips against her forehead. "I don't wanna leave you."

Her eyes were closed tight fighting the tears that threatened. "Once you get there you'll be so busy you…"

"Don't, Sara. Don't say I won't miss you. 'Cause I'm gonna miss you like crazy."

His arms already around her tightened, pulling her closer. They lay like that for a while breathing, thinking, but not speaking, both of them trying desperately to memorize how it felt to be in the other's arms.

And then the moment was interrupted by the chirping of Michael's cell phone beside the bed.

He sighed and reached for it. Sara saw 'Heather' illuminated on the screen as he flipped it open. She tucked her head into his chest and listened as he talked to his sister, making plans to meet for a late breakfast. And then he flipped the phone closed and set it aside.

"We have about an hour before we meet them."

Sara nodded against him and pulled away. "We should get up then."

He nodded and swung his jean clad legs over the side of the bed.

"I'll go make some coffee. You can have the shower first."

She watched him move through the room and out the door. And then she got up and headed for the bathroom.


	33. Chapter 33

(Sara)

Michael reached and gave Sara's hand a gentle squeeze under the table. She turned and smiled at him, but didn't say anything. In fact they hadn't really said much of anything to each other since arriving at the restaurant almost two hours ago.

When Michael spoke with Heather on the phone earlier that afternoon she had neglected to tell him she had invited the whole band, but Sara could tell by the look on his face when they walked into the restaurant that he was pleased everyone had come to say goodbye.

She listened now as Jack went on about the size of Michael's head and how if it got much bigger it wouldn't fit through the door. She laughed along with the others, but her heart wasn't really in it.

"So, Mike, when do you think you'll make it back to Chicago?"

Michael turned to Teddy the bass player and grinned. "Beginning of summer at the very latest? Sara and Heather will be graduating, I can't miss that."

Michael looked her way and she forced a smile, but Sara was finding it more and more difficult to pretend she was okay with the idea of him leaving. In fact she had become increasingly more and more quiet as the time ticked away, drawing near to the time he would leave.

The conversation then turned to the summer season, and the gigs at the lake the guys were hoping to line up, that is provided they could get a decent singer to replace the giant head. Michael laughed at this but his eyes were still trained on her face.

"You, okay?" He said a few beats later leaning in close.

Sara nodded, hoping he would just let it go, and he did thankfully. But she had a feeling it was but a temporary reprieve. She was sure as soon as they were alone he would want to know what she was thinking.

"My brother the rock star." Heather teased leaning over to hug him close. "He's going to introduce me to Johnny Depp one of these days."

Michael grinned and put his arm around his sister pulling her close. "And if I do introduce you to Depp, then what? You dump the sink over there?"

Heather smiled innocently. "Of course not. I would keep him. Johnny could just be my pirate love slave."

Linc shot her a look, but he was grinning. "Depp would be a dead man...Forget the kraken, he ain't seen nothin' yet."

Heather giggled and moved away from Michael as Linc's arm wound its way possessively around her pulling her close.

Sara's attention was drawn away from their antics when Michael picked up her wrist and looked at her watch.

"It's after 3:00. I guess I'd better get back home and pack."

Sara nodded. "Yeah, I could help if you want?"

Heather answered for him, a twinkle in her eyes. "No way, Bro. I can pack up your stuff. That way you and Sara can have some more time together before you leave for the airport."

Michael grinned and looked at Sara. At her grateful nod he turned back to his sister. "That sounds great, Heather, but you're coming to the airport with us, right?"

Heather nodded. "Of course I am, silly. I can't very well let you leave without saying goodbye at the very last minute, now can I?"

Michael grinned. "No, I guess you couldn't do that."

And then everyone was getting up from the table.

Sara watched as Michael exchanged hand shakes that turned into hugs.

And then the goodbyes said, he took her hand and led her towards the door.

"Let's go. I think I know just the place to spend what's left of our time together."

XXXXX

The day was warm for early April, the sun shining brightly in the afternoon sky. Sara's fingertips were held lightly in his, each padded tip pressing intimately to hers, as they made their way to her car.

They had taken her car to the restaurant since Michael's was still at the club where he had left it the previous night.

When they got to the street where the car was parked, Sara handed him the keys and went around to the passenger's side and climbed in. She knew he would want to surprise her with where they were going.

She buckled up quickly and settled back against the seat. She knew she was being quiet again, but she couldn't help it.

"You okay?" He asked this now with a gentle squeeze of her hand.

She looked over and nodded. "I'm fine. Just, um…I'm okay, Michael."

He studied her for a few beats longer and then giving her hand one last squeeze he let it go, started the car, and pulled out into the street.

(Michael)

Sara was so quiet. She hadn't spoken much at the restaurant, but now the air around them was like that of a tomb.

They were stopped at a red light when the silence became too much for Michael. He reached over and flipped on the radio hoping to drown out some of the thoughts that were fraying his nerves. Was she having second thoughts about them already?

He made the final turn that would take them to their destination and looked over at her. By now it should be apparent where he was taking her. That is if she was paying attention to their surroundings.

(Sara)

She pulled her gaze away from the window and met his eyes for a moment, but then followed his line of vision when he turned back to face the road in front of them. That's when she saw it; the special place he wanted to spend the last of their time together. She felt her eyes fill with tears and looked over at him to see his worried eyes.

"I hope this is okay?"

She nodded her head and brushed at her tears. "It's perfect, Michael."

She faced forward staring, as he jumped out and made his way around to her side of the car. And then her door was open and his hand was held out to her.

Sara pulled her eyes away and wrapped her fingers through his, letting him pull her from the car out onto the sun warmed sidewalk.

The rooftop looked exactly as Sara remembered it, the table and chairs were still there, but now covered in a thin dust. And then she saw the blanket, wine bottle and two glasses.

"I'm sorry I didn't have time to come and clean up or anything," he said stepping up beside her.

When had he found the time to do even this much? And then she had her answer.

"I asked Heather to bring this stuff up here. It's not too much is it?"

She shook her head. "No, it's not too much…It really is perfect, Michael"

She reached and took his hand and led him to the blanket.

Once seated, he opened the wine and poured it for them. She was about to take a sip, but then stopped.

"It seems like we should toast or something, don't you think?"

His eyes grew serious, questioning. "Okay, how about we toast to us?"

It was then she realized just how unsure of them he was.

She nodded. "To us, Michael," she raised her glass and clinked it lightly against his bringing a smile to his face.

They sipped the wine and then Michael reached and took the glass from her fingers. He set both of their glasses aside and then reached for her hands.

"Um, Sara, there's something I wanna say…about us." His serious eyes never left hers. "When I asked you to wait for me…I meant that we should wait for each other. I don't intend to go to California and fall into the rocker lifestyle. That's not what I want…You're what I want; only you…I just wanted you to know that."

Sara squeezed his hands. "I think I knew that Michael. But thank you for saying it."

And then she leaned in close, kissing him softly, the taste of wine and promises filling her mouth.

She pulled back a little and looked down at his hands, her eyes falling on the thin leather band at his wrist. The same one she had slid onto her own wrist the night she met him, what now seemed like a lifetime ago.

She reached and slid her fingers over it, a small smile playing across her lips as she remembered lying in his bed for the very first time.

"What, you want this?" He was already unsnapping it and taking it off.

She let him snap it around her much smaller wrist, and then she pulled him close, her eyes filling with tears at the sentiment.

"I'm going to miss you so much." She let the tears fall and soak into his shirt as he held her.

"I know, me too, but I promise I'll come back, Sara, you know I'll come back for you."

She nodded against him. And then he pulled away, his eyes the most serious she had ever seen them. She brushed at her tears and held his gaze.

"Promise me something? Promise me you'll think about California…for the summer?"

Sara nodded. "I will. I promise I'll think about it." She spoke the words, her heart soaring.

And then he pulled her closer, his arms holding her tight. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Michael."

She closed her eyes then, promising herself she would remember every breath of this day.


	34. Chapter 34

(Sara)

Sara glanced at her watch and sat up. She had spent the last forty five minutes in his arms, the ticking from her wrist almost audible as each irretrievable second took her closer to losing him.

"When do you have to be at the airport again?"

But she knew the answer to this, how could she not?

"Um, soon… No later than 6:00?"

She nodded at this and let her hair fall over her face hiding her eyes, her emotions.

"We still have a little time, Sara. I mean before we have to leave."

He hopped up and she followed him with her eyes as he moved, the black shirt hanging down over his just right faded jeans. She felt an unexpected ache when he left her line of sight and tried to fight back the feeling that was growing in the pit of her stomach.

He was only around the corner, she knew, so how was she going to deal with him being over a thousand miles away? She pushed her hair back from her face and looked to the clear blue sky. Only one thing was a more beautiful blue to her, well two, and at the sound of his footfalls she lowered her head to meet them.

He smiled and held up the portable radio he had retrieved from some where on the rooftop. Sara laughed and sat up a little straighter, her whole demeanor changing at the sight of him.

He grinned and plopped down next to her.

"Just let me find something to dance to on this thing and we'll be all set."

He looked up at her and then back down at the radio. "Hmm, that's odd…" He was fiddling with the dials and buttons but so far no sound was emitting from the small speakers.

He picked it up and popped the back off of it and laughed. "Um, we have a problem…No batteries."

Sara felt a moment of disappointment, but then he was hopping up again. "Come 'ere." He held out his hand for her and pulled her to her feet.

She was wondering if they would simply dance to the sound of the traffic down below when he pulled her close and started to sing her song.

"If I wake to find you near me... your soft breath next to mine-  
If I sleep to find you with me... a dream locked out of time.  
Will you walk along the shadows to find the sun; I know it's just around the bend?

Will we never lose the way, and if we do begin again?  
Sara, I never could describe you, do you justice…  
Sara I never could deny you, give you everything you've missed. Sara..."

Sometimes I wish… I could just step right out of my own skin...  
be a stranger who just walked in...see you for the first time once again…

But Sara... I could never hide from your knowing eyes…  
Don't think I'm strong enough to even try."

His voice was soft and close; his body hard against her as they moved slowly with the gentle breeze that brushed their skin.

"So take me in your arms and hold me…  
I no longer need to escape….

No I no longer need to escape…"

They were no longer moving but for their hearts, their breath. The wind in their clothes the only movement, as they held each other hoping somehow to stop time.

(A Short time later)

Sara stopped and watched him walk along in front of her, luggage in hand. They were in the underground parking structure of the airport and somehow this finalized it all for her.

She watched as he said something to her, and when he got no response turned to look back spotting her standing back by the car.

"Sara?"

She looked down at her feet. She heard him tell Heather and Lincoln that they would catch up with them and then he was beside her.

"You okay?" She nodded still staring at her feet. "Sara?"

She looked up, her full eyes brimming. "I'm sorry, Michael. I told myself I could do this, I could walk in there with you and say goodbye…"

He shook his head, "Not goodbye, Sara. I'll be back before you know it."

She brushed her tears aside and looked into his sad blue gaze. "Two and half months Michael, won't pass before I know it."

He reached and took her hand, the luggage now resting at his feet. "I'm gonna call you all the time, everyday, night, whatever. I'll call you so much you'll be tired of me before I get back." He was smiling, but it didn't keep him from looking sad.

Sara laughed. "You think I could get tired of you, Scofield?"

He grinned. "I'm hoping not."

She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close, her fingers moving up into his closely cropped hair pulling his mouth to her own. She marveled in the taste of him for a moment, the gentleness with which he returned her kiss, and then she was pulling away.

She brushed the few remaining tears from her cheeks and smiled. "Come on, let's do this."

"Okay." He picked up his luggage, and then they made their way to the elevator that would take them out of the parking structure.

Despite how hard this was, Sara couldn't help but wish they could walk Michael to the plane. But due to Airline regulations this was as far as they were allowed to accompany him. Once Michael stepped passed security he would be on his own.

The four of them were standing around the security gate half heartedly joking, trying to make light of the whole situation, which was impossible in Sara's opinion.

And then it was time. The mood changed visibly with a simple glance at the clock. His plane would be boarding in a little over thirty minutes. Sara stood aside and watched as he pulled Heather close.

He was speaking softly, but she could hear him plainly enough. "I'm gonna miss you Heather bear, you know that, right?"

Heather nodded against him. "I already miss you and your still here."

Sara watched as a tear rolled from each of her best friend's eyes. Michael squeezed her close. "Take care of Sara; don't let her study too hard."

Heather laughed. "Yeah, right."

Michael pulled away grinning and looked to Lincoln. "And you, you take of my little sister."

Michael held out his hand to him, but Lincoln shoved it aside and pulled him in for a hug. The two men held each other for a moment and then stepped back from each other, neither of them saying anything for a beat.

It was Lincoln who finally broke the silence, his emotions barely held in check. "You go out there and show 'em, man, show 'em what you got, Mike."

Michael nodded, his jaw tight with emotion and a hint of tears shining in his eyes. Sara could tell this was getting to him and it was breaking her heart to see him this way.

And then he turned to her the look on his face adding to the ache she felt deep in her chest.

"Sara?"

She nodded and moved to him, her arms going around him squeezing him tight. If she could only hold him hard enough maybe just maybe she could hold onto him forever. But she knew this was crazy, he was leaving and nothing she could do would change that.

She felt the tears coursing down her cheeks and swallowed the lump in her throat, as his fingers moved up to run through her hair. And then he was cupping her face in his hands, staring intently into her eyes.

"June 15th." It wasn't a question but she responded in kind.

"June 15th."

He smiled a little, his intense eyes made bluer by the tears shining in them as he shook his head. "We don't say goodbye, Sara."

She shook her head in silent acquiescence, her lips trembling as more tears left a trail down her cheeks, running onto his hands.

He studied her for a beat. She saw a tear start at the corner of his eye, and then he was kissing her, her wet face against his as he took her breath away one last time.

He pulled away at Heather's low voice, "Mike you'd better get moving."

He nodded and swiped a hand over his face, his eyes never leaving Sara.

"I love you."

She nodded, her heart aching so badly she felt as if she truly might die. "I love you too."

And then he was moving through the security gate. She put her hands over her mouth to stifle the sobs that threatened and watched him.

She felt Heather's arm move around her waist to offer comfort, as Michael turned one last time to look back at them. And then he turned around and continued walking.

Sara watched him until she could no longer see his tall frame... and then he was gone.

(Michael)

The rise and fall of his adam's apple as he swallowed in his sleep moved below his stubble graced skin, as his tongue slid out to lick at his bottom lip moistening it.

If someone were to pass through the isle of first class seats, they would see the R.E.M activity as his eyes moved beneath his closed lids.

He was dreaming. He had fallen asleep shortly after take off, despite, or maybe because of the emotional goodbyes at the security gate, or maybe it was just that the last few days had finally caught up with him.

He moaned softly and sifted his lean body to gain comfort in the cushy seat. A bit of turbulence rocked him gently and his breath increased audibly.

She was there with him behind his closed lids, her body soft in all the right places, her lips moist and waiting.

His eyelids flickered a little and the light in the cabin almost awakened him but the pull of her warm body was far greater then any outside stimuli. The smell of her hair was in his lungs, the feel of her skin at his fingertips...now the taste of her in his mouth as she moaned against his parted lips.

He looked up into the small bathroom mirror and met his own intense, arousal darkened eyes.

His gaze then shifted to the glossy red reflection of her hair flowing smoothly down her porcelain back. She was sitting on the small sink, her bare thighs soft against his.

A part of him knew this was a dream, but there was a part of him that still dared to hope she really was on the plane with him, going to California after all.

He moved closer and felt her breath against him. "Sara," his breath left him with that one word, only to be eaten by a moan he couldn't contain.

She had enveloped him in her scent, her very essence again.

He leaned her back against the coolness of the mirror and gazed down at the beauty of her. She rolled her head a little, and opened her heavy coppery eyes taking him in deeper.

His breath increased as she moaned, the sound loud in the small cubicle.

The plane hit some turbulence and rocked him into her maiking her gasp. She felt so amazing, so real.

He leaned forward to taste her pink buds, their hardness filling him with a thrill that traveled through his stomach straight to his groin.

He let the rocking motion set the pace and contiuned to move with her, enjoying each gasp, each little half word that left her lips. He was having a hard time thinking in complete sentences himself much less voice the incredible sensations moving through him.

He felt the rise of warmth starting to increase in his lower abdomen as she cupped his ass in her hot hands and thrust him hard against her.

At this rate he knew he would never last.

He increased his speed to please her, and she moaned his name pulling him closer, her flushed skin firm against his inked torso as she breathlessly gasped.

And then he felt her thighs begin to quiver as her muscles contracted around him pulling him closer...so close.

"Sir? Sir, are you okay?"

He opened annoyed blue steel to see the flight attendent's concerned eyes.

"Um, Ah," he sifted uncomfortably in his seat and watched as her eyes moved to his lap, where they widened.

She was blushing profusely as she hurried away.

"Shit!" He muttered under his breath.

And then he leaned back closing his eyes, thinking maybe if he was lucky he could fall back to sleep and back into Sara's arms where he belonged.

(Lyrics to Sara's song by: Me)

(Chapter End Notes)

This is Not the end guys, so stay tuned for more! 8)


	35. Chapter 35

(Michael)

The fasten seat belts sign went off and Michael disentangled himself and stood up to stretch his long frame. Despite the extra leg room First class accommodations afforded he was stiff from having remained seated the entire flight.

Along with the other two people in First class he would be disembarking the plane first so he grabbed his carry-on and moved forward. The flight attendants were lined up by the door, and as he approached he purposely met the eyes of the older woman who had interrupted his 'mile high dream experience'.

She flushed and looked away as he smiled and winked. Some time in the near future she would recognize him. And the events of this flight would become one of her favorite stories to share with her aging girlfriends, but right now she was downright embarrassed.

And then he was passed her and on his way. He made his way out into the air conditioned LAX and moved his eyes over the many people milling around. He was looking for one person in particular. And then he saw her.

He headed in her direction and she looked up snapping her cell phone closed as he drew closer. She smiled and held out her hand to him. Michael shifted his carry-on to his left hand and wrapped his fingers around her much cooler hand.

"Michael, I hope your flight was satisfactory?"

"Yeah, it was fine, thanks."

She ran a hand up through her long blond hair and met his eyes. "Well then let's get you out of here."

Michael nodded. "Um, yeah okay, I just need to get my bags."

She laughed that throaty laugh Michael remembered from their phone conversations and turned to him a little as she matched his steps, her long legs moving next to his.

"That's all taken care of, Michael. We plan to take care of you. Roadhopper records wouldn't dream of letting any of your needs go unmet."

That said, she led him through the airport doors and out into the night air.

XXXXX

Michael matched Jane Barrow step for step, her last words ringing in his ears somehow making this more real for him.

He had been so wrapped up in everything back in Chicago he hadn't really let himself think this far ahead.

Jane was still talking as she led him to the curb, her throaty voice carrying on the light breeze.

"Once you're set up I'll introduce you to the guys at the recording studio."

His eyes took in the red Corvette parked in front of them and it took him a moment to realize they had stopped walking. She was looking at him; her blue eyes alight with amusement.

"Do you like it?"

He ripped his eyes from the sleek curves of the Corvette and back to the woman standing next to him. "It's um, very nice."

She laughed again and held up the keys. "Well, it's yours. And I'm sure once you've driven it you'll realize just how 'nice' it is."

She tossed him the keys and Michael watched as she made her way to the passenger's side of the car where she climbed in and looked up at him expectantly.

He shook his head and grinned as he moved to the driver's side where he fluidly slid inside one of the first tangible elements of his new life.

(Sara)

Sara laid her text book across her chest and looked at the clock. Michael had promised to call her when he landed, but maybe his plane had been delayed. His itinerary had him landing at 10:59am her time, but it would be earlier in California. He would be arriving just before 9:00pm.

Sara had hung out with Heather and Lincoln after leaving the airport, but she had decided to head to her dorm after a short while, her excuse studying, but really she just needed to be alone.

After about twenty minutes of sitting on her bed feeling like shit she had grabbed a book and actually studied…A little.

It was now 11:33pm She blinked heavily and let her eyes fall closed, the text book slipping from her fingers and onto the twin bed. Her head dipped onto her chest and her breathing became deep as exhaustion took her.

She slipped deeper, the music coming from her roomies headphones slipping into her head and twisting around. Soon it was Michael's voice she was hearing, bringing a small smile to her sleeping lips.

XXXXX

Her eyes moved over him, his body hugged by a light blue shirt that matched his eyes perfectly. He had the sleeves rolled up exposing his inked forearms which were resting on his jean clad legs.

They were sitting on the twin bed in her dorm, her back resting against the headboard while he sat at the foot of the bed. He held his guitar in his hands and his fingers were moving over the strings as the last words of her song fell from his lips. "No, I no longer need to escape…"

The last notes resonated through the quiet room, but he was already placing the guitar aside.

"That was beautiful, Michael."

He turned to her and smiled, "You're beautiful," and then he was crawling up the bed to her, his eyes hot and his intentions hotter.

She felt his fingers on her calves and then he was pulling her down into position; all the better to crawl onto. His body was against hers in a flash, his breath on her face, warm and so real, despite her minds protestations that this must be a dream; he must be a dream.

She looked over at the now empty bed her roomie had occupied only moments before, and then her eyes moved back to Michael.

He lifted up just then and started to unbutton his shirt, but she would have none of that. Her hands covered his and they fell away leaving her to it. She took her time one button followed by the next, each revealing more of the inked skin she loved.

When the shirt was open she tugged it off of him and pulled him down to her waiting lips, her hands moving over the hot, firm skin of his back. She moaned as his fingers moved through her hair sending shivers through her body…

"Shit, Are you going to answer that or what!?" Penelope grumped as she made her way across the room, her headphones dangling around her neck.

Sara bolted awake at this and grabbed at her cell phone. Michael had just interrupted the best dream she had had in weeks, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

(Michael)

"Michael…" her voice was low and she sounded tired.

He had been afraid of this, waking her, but she had made him promise he would call as soon as he landed...Besides the need to hear her voice had exceeded his need for air about twenty minutes ago.

Jane was in the bathroom of his new apartment using the facilities and he had stepped out onto the balcony for some privacy, finally finding some time alone.

"Hey, I'm sorry about not calling sooner. But Jane Barrow was waiting for me when I stepped off the plane and…"

"Michael it's okay, I know how these things go... I mean I don't really, but I'm sure you called as soon as you could, right?" Her voice sounded so good to him; so real where everything that had happened to him since landing in LA had been so overwhelming…so 'unreal'.

"He nodded, "Yeah, of course, I just got to my new apartment…Everything's moving so fast Sara."

He scraped a hand over his closely cropped head and sat down on a patio chair.

She was quiet for a beat, "I miss you, Michael."

He swallowed hard and leaning back he closed his eyes. "I miss you too, Sara."

After a beat of his own, "I dreamt about you on the plane, you know?

He felt a smile touch his lips at the memory. And then she was laughing softly in his ear. "I was dreaming about you when the phone rang."

He grinned and sifted in his seat as her voice sent a thrill through him. "So tell me about it. Was it ah…as good as the dream I had about you?"

Her voice came over the line lower this time, "I guess that would depend on how hot your dream was."

He sucked air in through his teeth at this. And then, "It was hot, Sara. Trust me."

She laughed. "Mine was too. I guess we will have to compare notes sometime?"

"Definitely."

He looked up to see Jane Barrow standing at the patio door. "Um, Sara I have to go. Ah, would it be okay if I called you later, maybe before your first class"?

"Yeah, sure that sounds good…wait there is a two hour time difference, it will be 5:00 in the morning in California when I get up.

He held up a finger to tell Jane he would be with her in a minute.

"Um, that's okay. I don't mind…unless you want me to call you at another time?"

"No, um it's fine. I want you to call me anytime you like…" She was silent for a beat and then, "I love you Michael."

He took a deep breath as her soft words moved through him. "I love you too."

And then refusing to say goodbye, they both flipped their phones closed in unison.


	36. Chapter 36

(Michael)

"Lie awake completely satisfied feel the sweat run through my hair. Well, I haven't felt this way in quite some time, when I look over your not there

Pain….. I won't let you slip away…. Noooo…nooooo...ooo..,ooo! Everybody makes mistakes sometimes…

Everyone here knows this is killing me. It tears the soul straight from my spine…"

"Mike? Hold on a sec." The music fell away and silence filled the recording chamber.

Michael stepped back from the mic and grabbed his bottled water. They had been working on this particular track for the last forty-five minutes, but he had been there for hours.

He swallowed with a slight wince and unscrewed the cap. His throat felt dry from the abuse of his vocal cords and he had a feeling before the day was out he would be hoarse. He took a big swig of water, the cool liquid soothing its way down his throat.

He capped the bottle and set it aside, his eyes moving back to the two men who held the fate of his CD in their hands.

Joe and Hector were talking, they had their heads together, but then they usually did. Not that Michael could hear a word of what they were saying anyways, what with the thick soundproofing of the recording studio. But maybe if they moved a little he could read their lips.

This was stupid. He had every right to know if there was a problem.

He headed out of the booth and shut the door behind him. "Something wrong, guys?"

They looked up at him, a worried look coming over Hector's face. "Um, Michael how's your throat feeling?"

Michael sighed, his hand automatically coming up to stroke his neck. "It's a little sore, but…"

Hector shook his head. "No buts, Michael. I think you should head out and get some rest. We can finish this up tomorrow."

Michael opened his mouth to protest, to say that he was fine, but he knew it was pointless to argue with Hector. He had been working with the man for over two weeks now and while that wasn't long it was enough time to know that when Hector said the day was over, the day was over.

Michael sighed and cast his eyes down at his scuffed leather boots. He couldn't help but feel impatient. He wanted this so badly.

"Call that girlfriend of yours why don't you? It's been what, five minutes since you last spoke to her?"

Michael looked up at Joe's teasing and smiled. "Yeah, something like that."

The guys liked to tease him about Sara, but he had to admit it was a good idea.

"Okay I'm gonna head out. I'll see you guys tomorrow." He grabbed his bottled water and was heading towards the door when Joe spoke again.

"Michael?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell Lincoln we need him in today after all. We might as well lay some drum tracks."

Michael nodded and headed out the door.

XXXXX

Michael pulled the Vette into his parking spot and jumped out taking a moment to admire the only hot, red thing he had had the pleasure of being inside of as of late. He hit the button activating the alarm and headed to the elevator that would take him to his floor.

His mind was on Sara, the other hot redhead in his life as he slid the key in and pushed open the door to his apartment. He was headed in to make himself comfortable when he heard a giggle coming from his bedroom.

"What the hell?" His deep mumble, only slightly audible filled the quiet room.

He listened in silence for a moment and there is was again, another giggle and it was definitely coming from his bedroom.

He moved quickly to the door, his mind answering all of the questions springing forth, none of which he liked. If Linc was in there with someone he was going to kill him.

He pushed open the door and stopped in his tracks. The two girls in his bed looked up at him and started giggling.

"Michael… right?"

The blond was naked, at least from the waist up. As the sheet fell away he averted his eyes only to see the smooth tanned skin of the brunette lying next to her.

Ahh…fuck! How had they even gotten in here? His question was answered within seconds. "Ms. Barrow let us in. She said we should, um wait for you but we kinda got bored all alone so…" The blond lifted the sheet away and her tanned skin hit blue fire.

"No, ah, I think Jane… Ms. Barrow made a mistake. You have to um, both of you need to get dressed and get out…Now." He closed the door of his bedroom and took a deep breath.

He stood listening but there was nothing but silence from the other side of the door. He hoped it meant they were dressing and would be out of there soon.

He wanted to kill Jane. His needs would be met? Was this what she had meant by that? He ran a hand over his head and made his way to the balcony.

Pushing the door shut behind him he plopped down in one of the patio chairs and fished out his cell phone. He pushed Linc on his memory and put the phone to his ear.

He listened as it rang and then Linc's voice mail kicked in, "Leave a message or don't, it's your call."

Michael shook his head, "Hey, man, you need to go in today. Joe and Hector wanna lay some tracks. I'll be home for a while…so if you wanna get some Chinese or something later?" Michael glanced up at the two girls standing by the door. "I gotta go. Call me later." He flipped the phone closed and moved to the door.

"Um, did we um, do something wrong? I mean you don't like us?" The brunette had finally spoken, while the blond was silent beside her.

Michael blinked at them. Were these gorgeous girls really feeling rejected by him?

"Ah, no, you didn't do anything. I mean your both really beautiful. It's just...It's just I have a girlfriend in Chicago…"

The blonde smiled, her blue eyes locking with Michael's. "Wow, she's a lucky girl."

Michael smiled and shook his head. "No, I'm the lucky one." He slipped a hand around the blonde's arm, "Now, why don't you let me show you two girls out? I don't mean to be rude, but I have a phone call to make."

XXXXX

Michael was headed towards his bedroom, cell phone in hand when he remembered the state of his sheets. He sighed and moved along the hall to the guest room where Linc had been staying the last two weeks. He shoved open the door and made his way to the freshly made bed.

God, he loved this apartment. And the maid service was beyond incredible. No matter the mess, each morning the service would come in and he would come home to an immaculate apartment.

That is until Jane decided to toss girls into his bed. Pushing it from his mind he plopped down and repositioned the pillows making himself comfortable. Once settled he flipped open his cell phone, a little smile coming to his lips at the sight of the small word lit up in green.

He pushed the button next to Sara's name and brought the phone up to his ear the scrape of stubble against the screen reminding him he needed to shave.

He leaned back and listened as it rang, his eyes moving to the clock 3:35pm. It would be 5:35 in Chicago. He knew Sara's last class was over at 3:00, so he figured she would have some time to talk.

"Michael." He closed his eyes and pictured her on the other end of the line, her eyes; the smile evident in her voice...

"Hey…" His fingers moved subconsciously to where his t-shirt had ridden up, his long fingers stroking the soft hair just above his belly button.

"How did it go today?"

Michael reached for his water and took a sip before answering. "It went okay. We got a lot of vocals laid today. How bout you? How was school?"

"Same old thing, but at least I'm finally caught up. Hey, did you get the pictures I sent you?" Her voice sounded so good to him. He was glad she could finally relax a little. He hadn't been surprised in the least by how quickly she was able to catch up in her studies once he wasn't there to distract her.

"No, I haven't been online today." His eyes moved to the new computer on the desk in the corner.

He and Lincoln had just hooked it up the night before. He hopped up and made his way to the chair, his toes sinking into the cool, soft carpet. He tucked the phone between his ear and his shoulder and began to log in to check his e-mail.

"I'm logging into my e-mail now." He opened the first attachment and shifted in the chair.

A few beats later he was smiling back at her face on the screen. "I like it. You look good; like your not studying too hard." He teased.

She laughed, a low sexy laugh that sent a tingle through him.

"Yeah…well..."

"Seriously, Sara…do something fun."

"I am doing something fun, Michael. I'm talking to you. Hey, send me a picture?"

He laughed, "I don't have a camera."

"So buy one." The smile in her voice was infectious.

"Okay, I will." He opened another attachment and his smile grew. The picture was of Heather sticking her tongue out at the camera.

He closed it and opened another. Sara's face came up on the screen taking his breath. This one was different then the first, the look in her eyes telling him she had taken the photo just for him, her coppery eyes seeking him out, drawing him in.

"Hey, are you still there?" He jumped a little at the sound of her voice.

"Um, ah, yeah, I just got to the last picture." His voice sounded a bit off, and he wasn't sure if it was the stress of the day's recording or the photo in front of him.

"Is your throat still bothering you?"

"A little…Sara, the last picture is ah…it's great." He listened to her soft laugh and then they both grew quiet.

After a beat, "I miss you."

"I know…I miss you too." Her voice was low, softer.

Michael's eyes moved back to the screen. "Hey, send me a picture…of you…one for my eyes only."

Sara laughed, but then grew serious, "Ah, no."

"Oh, come on, Sara…" He was only half serious.

"Uh huh, I don't think so, Michael. I mean Lincoln uses the computer too, what if he were to see it or something?"

"Lincoln has his own e-mail account. He would never see it."

Sara was quiet and he was opening his mouth to say it was okay, she didn't have to do it if she was uncomfortable with the idea when she surprised him. "I'll um, I'll send you a picture, but no promises on how, um, on what I'll be wearing…or not wearing."

It was Michael's turn to be silent. And then, "Ah, okay. I'll, um, I'll be waiting for it then…I mean really waiting for it."

Sara laughed. "K. I'll send it soon I promise"

Michael grinned and leaned back in the chair trying to get comfortable. He knew he would be more comfortable on the bed, but this way he could look at her while they talked.

(Later)

Time always flew when he was on the phone with Sara, and today was no exception. They were talking about the newest movies when Michael heard the front door open and close.

"I think Lincoln just walked in...probably with dinner."

"I should probably go anyways. I have a paper to write. Call me tomorrow?"

"I will."

Michael stared into the coppery depths in front of him on the screen not wanting to break the connection. Wanting to say I love you, but knowing it would end the call.

And then the words were out of his mouth and he was flipping the phone closed.

He sat quietly for a moment just looking at her. And then he closed the attachment and logged off.

He jumped up and headed towards the door, the smell of chinese food igniting his taste buds.

He figured if nothing else, coming home to find two hot, naked girls in his bed would make for great dinner conversation.

But he intended to have a very different conversation with Jane Barrow.

XXXXX

(The next day0

Michael pushed open the door to Jane's office and walked in, the secretary's eyes were glued to his ass, as always, but he ignored it, he was used to women staring at him.

Jane looked up and smiled, her blue eyes meeting his. Her smile faltered a little at the coldness in his depths, but she recovered quickly enough. "Have a seat, Michael." She motioned for him to sit across from her.

Without uttering a word he took a seat.

After a beat, "Two girls were in my bed yesterday afternoon, Jane."

Jane was looking down at some paper work in front of her. "And…?"

Michael took a deep breath, "And I didn't appreciate it."

Jane laughed, her eyes shooting up from her desk top. "You're joking right? I send you not one, but two hotties and you don't like them...your upset? I'm confused, Michael. You're not gay, right, or is my gaydar on the fritz?"

Michael wasn't amused. "No, Jane I'm not gay, but I do have standards…and a girlfriend."

Jane's smile died on her lips. "Right… Sara, isn't it?"

Michael studied her for a second. "Yeah, Sara. And if you knew this, why did you send those 'hotties' to my place? I don't need you to hook me up."

Jane sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze level on him. "It's simple, Michael, we just want you to be happy."

Michael sat forward a little, meeting her eyes. "If you want me happy, let me fly back to Chicago for the weekend."

Jane smiled and shook her head. " I can't do that, Michael. You know we're on a tight shedule. And we've already paid for studio time."

"Then Sara can come here." He tried, determination in his voice.

"I don't think that would be a good idea, Michael."

"Why not? Isn't keeping me happy the idea? I mean you said you want me happy, Jane, well it's simple, let me see Sara."

"It's not a good idea because I need your head here, Michael, not with Sara."

Michael's eyes were chips of blue steel. As she continued to speak they grew even cooler.

"I think it wold be best if you were to concentrate on your music, don't you? I mean Sara wouldn't want you to mess this up."

"What are you saying, Jane?"

"I'm just saying you should take some time. Let Sara finish up with school while you concentrate on helping me get this CD out there...And about Sara, Michael? I think it would be best if you, ah, how do I put this without pissing you off?" She tapped her chin.

How did she say what without pissing him off? He was already pretty damn pissed.

"Maybe you don't say it?" His voice was cutting.

Jane ignored him. "Michael maybe it would be best if...Maybe keeping your personal life personal would be best?"

Michael just stared at her.

Noting his agitation, but continuing anyways, "Michael, you have an interview with Spin magazine next week. And maybe they won't ask you your relationship status this time, but maybe they will. I just think you should be prepared to..."

Michael shook his head. "I'm not lying about Sara if that's what your getting at, Jane. I'm not saying I'm unattached to sell CD's."

"Michael this is your career we're talking about here. I'm sure Sara will..."

"No! He cut her off, his voice loud. Seconds ticked away. When he spoke again his voice had softened, "No, I can't do that to her Jane. I won't do it. We've been through too much, and...I just can't."

Jane steepled her hands together and studied him. "Okay, well maybe they won't ask. Maybe we can just dodge that bullet this time?"

Michael was getting to his feet, he had heard enough of this shit. As far as he was concerned it was settled.

"But Michael?" He looked up at her voice, "They will ask eventually, and it will matter. Because your going to be... hot. And all those girls out there? They're going to want you. Have you given that any thought at all?"

Michael shook his head. "There's only one girl I care about, Jane. And as long as she wants me, none of that matters."

He walked out, leaving her staring at a closed door.

(Song: Seven by Sinch)


	37. Chapter 37

(Sara)

The tripod was set in the middle of the floor, its position facing the bed. Sara knew she had a few moments, but only a few in which to pose, or not pose. Should she pose? She looked down at herself nervously and took a deep breath. She would pose.

She set the timer and hurried to the bed where she grabbed a pillow to strategically place over a certain area of her anatomy, and then she put an arm over her chest. The flash went off and she jumped up to check the photo on the LED screen. Thank God for digital, she thought as the picture popped out at her. She winced and hit delete. Three attempts later she was ready to give up.

Her head jerked up at the sound of a soft knock and then she was staring into Heather's blue eyes as they began to twinkle with amusement. "Are you doing what I think your doing?"

Sara blushed and pulled the pillow over herself. "Um, I was just um, she cleared her throat, Yes."

Heather clapped her hands together and grinned. "I'll tell you what, I'll take one of you and then you can take one of me for Lincoln?"

Sara nodded gratefully, but Heather was already taking up the camera, the Visual arts major in her taking over. She made some adjustments and then put the camera down on the table. "Okay, how much do you wanna show the camera, Sara?"

"Um, the camera, you mean, um Michael, right?"

Heather sighed, "Yeah, but the camera will see it first."

At Sara's clueless expression, "I'll tell you what, let's just take some shots and if you don't like them we'll just delete them, okay?"

Sara was already on her way to the bed. "That sounds good."

She combed her fingers through her hair and then faced forward.

"Relax, Sara the camera won't bite."

Sara took a deep breath and tried to relax, but it was hard to ease the stiffness from her body. "Maybe I should have had a drink or two before doing this?"

Heather grinned. Sara was smiling back when the flash went off.

"Let me see it," she was about to jump up when Heather shot her a look. "Come on Heather, please?" She was making her eyes big when the flash went off again.

"Nope not until I say we're done." Heather set the camera aside and moved to position Sara's somewhat relaxed limbs. "Here, cross your arms over your chest and tip your head down while looking up at the camera, like this."

Sara did as she was told.

"Now think about Michael, Sara." The flash filled the room.

A few shots later she was getting dressed.

With Sara looking over her shoulder, Heather brought up first one picture and then the next until they came to the one with her arms crossed over her chest. She could see cleavage and the flatness of her stomach. But the look on her face was what sold it. She had been doing as instructed; thinking about Michael, and it was obvious.

"I think we have a keeper." Heather clicked the button several times deleting all but the one photo. She removed Sara's SM card and handed it to her. "I'll go get my extra SM, be right back.

Sara felt a smile touch her lips as she imagined the look on Michael's face when he checked his e-mail. She stared at the card for a moment longer and then tucked it into her pocket. She would send it to him from Heather's computer later tonight.

(Michael)

"Cheers, man," Michael knocked his glass against Lincoln's and then downed the brown liquid in one gulp. He glanced around the crowded club, his eyes moving over the scantily clad women and the men who couldn't seem to take their eyes off of them.

He just wanted this to be over. He looked over at Lincoln and sighed. He knew Linc was having a good time, but the more he drank the more his eyes latched onto the passing hotties. And while Michael had no doubt, Linc loved Heather; he worried about his ability to 'just say no'.

"Hey, man, why don't we get out of here? We've stayed long enough to make an appearance like Jane wanted." Not waiting for an answer, Michael clapped his friend on the back and moved to stand.

"Michael, there you are. I need to speak with you. Alone," Jane said looking pointedly at Lincoln.

Michael looked from Linc back to Jane. He really didn't want to leave him alone out there in the club with all this temptation.

"Can't this wait until tomorrow? I can come by first thing in the morning before we hit the studio."

But Jane was already wrapping her fingers around his arm. "It'll only take a minute…promise," She leaned in smiling and Michael got a whiff of the bourbon on her breath.

"Um, yeah, okay."

He turned to Lincoln, "I'll be right back and then we'll head out."

Linc nodded but his head was already turning away as a hot blond passed them.

Michael sighed and turned to Jane. "Let's make this quick, okay?"

She smiled, "Sure thing. Come on."

XXXXX

"Now this is more like it," Jane said as she shut the office door behind them.

"It's nice to be away from all that noise for a bit." She moved through the room stumbling a little and began making herself a drink, downing it only to refill the glass.

Michael had his back to her and was busy looking around the posh room with all the gold and platinum records mounted on the walls. He didn't notice when she padded back over to the door and clicked the lock down.

"Led Zeppelin…Iggy Pop…The Stones…They all played here?"

Jane was grinning as she sidled up next to him. "They did…and you will too… next weekend."

Michael turned to her. Was she serious? They had watched three bands at the club tonight; each one far more successful then he had ever hoped to be.

"Next weekend… We're playing here next weekend?" He couldn't stop the grin that was spreading across his face.

"Yep, three or four songs…Think you're up for it?" She slid her arm around his waist and he froze; all of the good feelings dying as her fingers pulled him towards her.

He reached and took her hand, turning his body to face her. "Jane, I don't think..." And then she was against him, her body pressing into his.

He backed up quickly to get her off of him and stumbled into a chair. He was trying to get up, but she blocked him.

She was standing in front of him, her fingers busy at the buttons of her silk blouse. "I think we should celebrate, don't you, Michael?"

Again he tried to stand up, but she shoved him back into the chair. "I never should have sent those girls to do a woman's job," her last few words were slurred.

"Jane, I really...I can't do this…It's not you. It's me. It's… I have a girlfriend." He was looking up at her now, his hands clutching the chair arms tightly. God, this couldn't really be happening to him, could it? Why did shit like this keep happening to him?

And then she fell on him, her tall body wiry with determination. Her hands were pulling his shirt away from his body as her lips sought his, barely grazing his cheek.

"Stop it!" He jerked away and shoved her off of him, knocking her to the floor at his feet. He was through trying to save her ego. "This isn't going to happen, Jane!"

She looked up at him, her eyes ablaze with blue fire. He was waiting for her to say something, to tell him it was over, he could pack his shit and head back to Chicago, but the room remained silent, but for the muffled hum of the loud music below in the club.

A few beats later she still hadn't said anything, but climbed to her feet and began straightening her clothing. Michael watched as she bent to retrieve her shoes, stumbling a little, as she shoved them on her feet.

It was only when she reached the door that she turned her cold blue eyes back to him. "This never happened, understand?"

Not waiting for an answer, she shut the door behind her, the resounding bang filling his stunned ears.

XXXXX

"Come on, let's go."

Despite Lincoln's inebriation, one look at Michael told volumes. He knew something had happened. He downed the rest of his drink and reluctantly slipped out of the seat he had been warming at the bar.

"Is that lipstick on your cheek, Bro?"

Michael ignored him and headed for the door. He was hoping they wouldn't run into Jane on the way out. He had seen enough of her for one night...more then enough.

Once out the door he slowed his pace, letting Lincoln catch up with him.

"Where's the fuckin' fire, Mike? I was havin' fun in there."

Michael pulled open the door to the Corvette and climbed behind the wheel. "Get in. I'll tell you on the way home."

Linc climbed in. The door was barely closed when tires screeching, Michael pulled out and sped off into the night.

XXXXX

The short ride home was plenty long enough for Michael to fill Lincoln in on the night's events. He shut off the car and was reaching for the door handle.

"You think she would go for me, then?" At Michael's scorching look, "I was joking, man. Don't go all Big Brother on me…I love your sister. Besides Heather would beat the shit outta me if I cheated on her."

Michael laughed for the first time in the last hour. "And when she was finished with you, I would go all Big Brother on your ass."

He slid the key in the lock and then they were inside the apartment.

"Hey?"

Linc was headed for his bedroom, but stopped to look back at him. "Can you sleep in my room tonight? I wanna load those pictures we took at the studio today and send them to Sara."

Lincoln nodded and went through the door to Michael's bedroom. Michael heard a banging noise followed by a muted swear word and then he was alone in the quiet living room.

He moved through the apartment to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. He twisted off the cap and took a deep swig. He stopped only briefly to kick off his shoes, and then headed to Linc's room.

XXXXX

Michael pushed open the door and shoved it closed behind him. He made his way to the computer and sat down heavily behind the desk, ready to kick back and relax for a few.

He eyed the camera he had placed within easy reach in the few moments spent at the apartment earlier before heading to the clubbing event he had been shanghaied into attending at the last minute.

Jane had sent word that day to the studio via messenger that he and Linc were to show up at the club that night or else.

The event had taken up his entire night, and while Michael had enjoyed the bands, it had prevented him from speaking with Sara.

He glanced to the clock, 1:08am. Which meant it was after 3:00am in Chicago. Maybe it was best he couldn't call Sara tonight. He needed to think about how much he should tell her, if anything, about what had happened tonight with Jane.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers over his face tiredly. He couldn't believe how the night had ended. Jane had been all over him. Of all the women to hit on him why did it have to be her? He sighed and pulled the SM card out of the camera and stuck it into its slot on the computer.

He waited the few moments it took to show up on the screen and then opened the pictures he and Lincoln had snapped earlier so he could look through them. He would only send her the good ones.

He deleted the first one. No way was he sending her the one with him flipping off the camera. He shot an un-amused look at the door behind him as if Lincoln were standing there, and then turned back to the screen.

A few minutes later his choices were made. He put them all in a file to send, figuring he would send Sara the file and then hit the sack.

His eyes moved longingly to the bed across the room. And then he grabbed his bottle of water and took a sip.  
He was signed into his e-mail account and decided to check his mail first. A smile lit his tired features at the

He clicked to open it, and then clicked on the attachment, his previous conversation with Sara completely slipping his mind. The image of her springing up on the screen took his breath and something else sprang up instantly.

He sat forward a little, his grip loosening on the bottle in his fingers. The next thing he knew his jeans were wet, the bottle almost empty in his hand. "Fuck!"  
He jumped up and looked down at himself. He was soaking wet.

His eyes moved back to her face, her body, as he unbuttoned his jeans and slid down the zip.  
His eyes never left the screen as he eased out of the wet denim and slid off his boxers. And then he did look down at himself.

His blue eyes were darkening with every pulse beat as they moved back to the screen.

Reaching down to grasp himself, he moved to the chair and sat down, his eyes devouring every line, every curve of her body; the sexy look in her eyes moving him closer as his hand traveled the length of his shaft.

He moaned lightly and a gasp left him as he closed his eyes and leaned back taking her image with him, bringing it to life behind his closed eyelids. He gasped again and sped up, her perfect breasts, he mouth, her eyes…She was wrapped around him so tightly…

He moaned an almost painful sound low in his throat and then he was coming into his fist, his breath coming even faster. He opened his eyes and drank her in one last time and then grabbed the box of Kleenex Lincoln kept next to the computer.

XXXXX

His finger was on the mouse button ready to send the file.

A smile played over his lips as a thought came to him and he hopped up. He was now wearing boxers and a wife beater.

He looked down at himself and grinned. He moved to the closet and started rifling around for the box the camera had come in. Finding it quickly, he began to read through the instruction manual. Figuring it couldn't be too hard he pushed some buttons on the camera to take a test shot. He sat waiting the 20 seconds he was said to have, counting aloud. And then the flash filled the room. "Perfect."

He stripped out of the shirt and then set the camera, and put it on the desk facing him. He grabbed his acoustic guitar and placed it in front of him, the warm brown of the wood concealing his boxers. He had his arms wrapped around the neck of the guitar when he shot his most seductive look towards the camera.

A few seconds later the flash went off.

He grabbed the camera and pushed the button to bring up the picture. He grinned when it popped up on the screen. Sara was going to love it.

(One week later)

(Sara)

The photo was in her hand again, Michael at her fingertips and yet still so far away. She looked at him hugging the guitar, the look in his eyes one she knew well. God, she missed him so much!

She sighed and tucked the picture away inside her book. A little over a month and we'll be together again, she reminded herself for the third time that night. She glanced at the clock. He would be going onstage soon. She smiled as she remembered his excitement when telling her about the gig. The club they were playing tonight was a big deal supposedly, and she knew playing there was like a dream come true for Michael. She only wished she could be there to share it with him.

She sighed again and grabbed her pencil. Stupid, stupid paper! The paper was due Monday and she couldn't seem to get a word on the glaring whiteness in front of her.

The chirping of her cell phone going off a welcome distraction, Sara fished it out of her bag. Michael. She flipped it open and stuck it to her ear.

"Hey, you." The sound of his voice was just what she needed.

"Hey, yourself. Aren't you supposed to be onstage right now?"

"We go on in about forty-five minutes. I just wanted to…I needed to hear your voice."

Sara took a deep breath. "I needed this too." After a beat, "I wish I was there with you Michael…Sharing this with you. I know it's a big deal. I know how much this means to you, your first real gig."

"It does mean a lot. But hey, you'll be here for the whole summer. And that means more to me than twenty gigs." He spoke softly, his voice moving over her like warmth on a cold day.

"I know, a little over a month, right?" She spoke the words aloud this time.

"A month and four days to be exact, but then I'm counting… Hold on a sec, Sara?"

Sara could hear someone in the background speaking to him and then he was back.

"I have to go. They wanna do some sound checks before we go on." He sounded reluctant to go.

"It's okay. I need to get back to this paper anyways."

"Okay. Don't study too hard?" He teased.

"Yeah right." She knew she would be lucky to even make a dent in her paper tonight.

"Break a leg, huh?" She said this softly her words moving through the line.

"Thanks I will…Sara?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you." His voice was lower, more intimate.

"I love you too, Michael."

She flipped the phone closed and pulled her eyes from the photo that had somehow found its way back into her hand.

(Michael)

"This song is for Sara."

He closed his eyes against the bright lights and pictured her there in her bedroom, in their bedroom, text books surrounding her.

"I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh…I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away…I keep your photograph; I know it serves me well…I wanna hold you high and steal your pain…"

He opened his eyes and the full club met tear, glazed blue; each word he sang written for her, sang only for her, but falling on hundreds of ears…

The one he wanted to be there more than anything was still so far away.

''Cause I'm broken when I'm open…And I don't feel like I am strong enough…'cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome…And I don't feel light when I'm gone away…"

He took a deep breath as the song came to an end, the applause washing over him, breaking through his heavy thoughts.

He smiled softly, and turned to Linc who gave him a nod. And then they went into their next song, a much heavier tune.

"Cozy in this home, burnt up swollen pains…Fear is on the plate but you can't recognize the danger that you've gotten yourself in. Do as I'm told not for long…"But on the mattress, I had a good time…I can't remember… she wore the same brands…. as everyone else…That's why I don't mind if she deciphers the lines..."

(Songs and Lyrics- Broken by: Seether,  
Passive resistor by: Sinch)


	38. Chapter 38

(0ne month later)

Sara flipped the phone closed and leaned back against the pillows with a sigh. Just two more days and he would be here with her. Michael was set to arrive in Chicago two days before the graduation ceremony. And while Sara was excited to be graduating, she could fool no one including herself that being with Michael wasn't just as, if not more important to her. She had missed him so much these last months.

She let her fingers trail over the picture of him, the guitar in his hands, how his long fingers were wrapped around it…his tattoos dark against the warm wood. She sighed again and held it, hugging it to her chest. She wanted so badly to be with him, but there was a part of her that was nervous about their reunion. She knew he was aching to be with her in every sense, and she was too if she were to be honest with herself. But then there was the part of her that warned they should move slowly, not jump right back into bed together. The part of her that insisted they spend some time getting to know one another again before becoming intimate.

She pushed her hair back from her face and flipped onto her side, her eyes falling on the blue slices of promise looking back at her from the photo. When she looked into those eyes she could believe that everything would work out for them, that they could get back what they once had, that the damage from lies and misunderstanding could be undone…Forgotten. She knew Michael was being sincere in everything he had said to her before leaving, that wasn't the problem. The problem lay with the future. He was going to be big, she knew this. And once his CD came out he would be more than surrounded by beautiful women. How could she compete with all of them? She sighed and closed her eyes.

"Because he loves me," she said this softly, a whisper falling from her lips into the quiet room.

Her cell chirping next to her pulling her out of her thoughts, she reached and scooped it up from where it had fallen beside her.

'Dad' was flashing across the screen.

She had been expecting him to call sometime this morning with his flight information. He was flying in for the ceremony. And while just having her father there to share her accomplishment with her would be wonderful, she hadn't seen her father since her trip home at Christmas. Sara couldn't wait to introduce him to Michael. The only thing she wasn't looking forward to was breaking the news to him of her summer plans. She still hadn't told him she would be spending the summer in California with her boyfriend.

Flipping it open, "Hey, Dad." She tucked the phone against her shoulder and smiled.

"Hey little girl," her father's voice washed over her making her feel like a little girl again.

She lay the photo down and grabbed up the pad and pen lying next to her. As she listened to her father give her an update on his travel plans, she jotted it down in her neat hand writing. When she had all of the information she would need to pick him up the next day she set the pad aside.

"Well, sweetheart I won't keep you, I'm sure you have more important things to do then talk to your old Dad." There was a moment of silence over the line. "I miss you little girl."

"I miss you too, Dad, and I always have time to talk to you." She reassured him.

They spoke for a few minutes more, and then she flipped the phone closed.

(The next day)

"You wanted to see me, Jane?"

Jane Barrow looked up, cold eyes meeting neutral blue. "Come in and shut the door, will you Michael?"

The questions in his eyes going unvoiced, Michael shut the door and moved to the chair in front of her desk. He just wasn't comfortable around her these days. He hadn't been since she came on to him so strongly at the club over a month ago. It didn't matter that she had been all business since that night- he was still uneasy in her presence.

He took a seat and folded his hands together, letting his eyes move  
over the office, looking anywhere but at her. His circuit of the room complete, his eyes moved back to find her staring at him as if waiting.

"I've set up an interview for this Friday. You and Lincoln need to be there at 10:00pm…The Rock About...he only meets at clubs...something about atmosphere... and don't tell me you have plans, because this is big Michael. James Collins doesn't reschedule for anyone; especially not for a new artist with little or no following." Her tone was all business as usual, but was there a note of cold satisfaction in her voice?

Michael felt his heart take a dive. Friday? They were leaving for Chicago tomorrow. How were they supposed to be here for an interview on Friday?

"Um, we can't do it Jane. Lincoln and I are heading back home tomorrow."

Jane stared at him her expression becoming more glacial with every blink.

"You will do it Michael. It's in your contract." She looked passed his smoldering eyes and clenched jaw as she hit the button signaling her assistant in the outer office.

"Jimmy, I need you to get John Bates on the phone. Tell him I can do lunch. Tell him 12:00 isn't good for me…But 1:00 works."

"I'll get right on it Ms. Barrow." Jimmy's reedy little voice grated on Michael's nerves on a good day; today it just pissed him off.

He held his tongue waiting for her to finish when what he really wanted to do was get up and a few expletives later slam the door in her face.

"Thanks Jimmy." Jane smiled over Michael's shoulder at the closed door. When her eyes met his again her smile had fled and she was once again all business. "I'll let you break the news to Lincoln."

"We told you three weeks ago that we were leaving on Thursday." He said this in a cold measured tone, struggling to hold his anger in check. It would do no good to argue with her, but he wanted her to know he was wise to her. She had done this on purpose, he was sure of it.

Her cold smile only confirmed his suspicions. "I'm sorry Michael, but I really had no say in the scheduling. James is heading off to Europe in a few days and this was his only opening."

"Can we re-schedule the photo shoot then?"

The photo shoot was scheduled for the following Tuesday and he hadn't been happy with the short time spent in Chicago…With this change he would only be there three days tops…And he would be cutting it close to make it there before the ceremony at 1:00 on Saturday.

"You know we can't do that. We have a deadline to meet Michael."

He nodded and climbed to his feet. He had known what her answer would be, but made himself ask anyways. Without another word, he turned and headed out the door. He knew if he stayed any longer this meeting wouldn't end well for anyone.

He needed a drink and then he had to call and give Sara the bad news.

XXXXX

Three drinks later he held the cell phone up to his ear and closed his eyes. When she answered he would just say it. He knew she would be disappointed, hell he was disappointed. He wanted, no needed to see her so badly. He looked at the photo in his hand and sighed.

The phone was picked up on the third ring, her happy voice filling his ear in greeting. "Hey you. I wasn't expecting you till later tonight."

"Hey, yeah I know. I just um…Sara I have some bad news. I ah, Lincoln and I have an interview Friday night…some big wig for Rolling stone magazine…" he trailed off to be met with silence on her end of the line.

A few beats later. "Does that mean you can't…you won't make it for the ceremony on Saturday?" Her voice was no longer happy. He could picture her there looking worried.

"Um, no I mean yes, we just…I'll make it happen Sara, I promise. I wouldn't miss this for anything."

She was quiet for another breath and then, "Okay, I mean I know this stuff has to come first…your career, I just…Just try to be here, Michael? This is…It's important to me that you're here…Heather too."

He nodded and closed his eyes. "I know it's important…your important to me Sara. And I will be there, I promise you."

They spoke for a few minutes more and then needing to call the airport, he wasn't about to let Jane's people handle this, he ended the call.

He was determined to make it to Chicago for the graduation ceremony, even if it meant bailing out of the interview and facing Jane's wrath when he returned on Monday.

(Sara)

Sara flipped the phone closed and shut her eyes against the harsh light and the harsher news that was still floating around her head. She knew Michael would do his best to be there on Saturday, but she couldn't help but feel disappointed.

And their plans for the night before were shot. She had intended to introduce Michael to her father over dinner. Now she would be lucky to have a few minutes alone with Michael before the ceremony…and he would be leaving on Monday.

She tried to remind herself she would be following close behind…She and Heather had plans to leave for California the weekend after graduation. They needed a few days to tie up lose ends and pack.

Feeling a little better she sat up and looked at the clock. Her father's plane would be arriving in little over an hour. Determined to not let this affect her mood, Sara pushed it aside. She didn't want her father's first evening in Chicago to be overshadowed by her own disappointment. Still, she had a feeling this was going to be a long night.


	39. Chapter 39

(Friday night)

He glanced quickly at the clock on his cell phone and settled back in his chair. The Rock About wasn't exactly his idea of an ideal meeting spot. But as far as strip clubs went it was by far the nicest one Michael had ever set foot in.

He looked towards the restrooms hoping to spot Lincoln on his way back to the table. Their 10:00 interview, while technically over, was now well into its third hour and if they didn't leave soon they would miss their 4:00am flight.

He turned back to the man sitting across from him. James Collins was a big man by all aspects. He was tall, around 6'4 and if Michael had to guess he would put him well over three hundred lbs. They had intended to do the interview and then head out, but James was one of the friendliest guys they had met in the business so far, and he was hard to say no to. That and he kept pushing drinks at them…well at Linc, anyway; Michael had only had two drinks total. And hanging out hadn't been a problem. Not until now, but it was getting late and Michael found himself glancing with more and more frequency to the clock.

Where the hell was Linc? He looked behind him again and then faced forward, his eyes landing on the dancers in front of him. James had been eyeing a blonde all night. As Michael watched he motioned her over. Once at the table she leaned down and James whispered something into her ear. She nodded and looked over meeting Michael's eyes with a smile. She walked away with a glance behind her to make sure they were looking.

Michael pulled his eyes away and blinked. "Um, James, Linc and I need to get going soon. We have a…" He was interrupted by the return of the blonde. She had a brunette and a red head in tow. Michael tried to look around them. "We have a plane to…" The red head was now in his lap. "No thank you. I'm not interested in a dance…"

James was looking at him. "Is there a problem, Michael? I mean your not gay, right?" He was grinning over at Michael as the blonde on his lap nibbled his neck. "No, I'm not gay. But I do have a girlfriend. She's waiting for me in Chicago… And well I hate to bail on you, but we have a plane to catch."

He turned to the red head as she pressed herself against him and took a deep breath. "I can't…I'm sorry."

"It feels like you can to me." She grinned sexily.

"Yeah well…I can't." He looked around her to James. "I'm sorry we really do have to go."

He was easing out from under the girl just as Lincoln walked up looking a little green. Michael had an idea what had taken him so long in the bathroom.

James stood as well, his hand shooting out to grip theirs in his firm handshake. "I'd walk you out, but I don't have a girlfriend," he said his eyes roving over the blonde beside him. Michael grinned and shook his head.

A few minute later they were in the car on their way to the airport.

XXXXX

Michael turned his head and looked out at the fog shrouded predawn night. It seemed like everyone and everything was against them getting to Chicago including the weather. But the sun would soon be rising and maybe it would burn off some of the fog.

He glanced beside him, his eyes landing on his sleeping companion. Well at least Lincoln was too out of it to be bothered. Linc had passed out cold not five minutes after his tall frame landed on one of the uncomfortable hard backed seats at the airport. He had even slept blissfully through the announcement informing them of a flight delay due to heavy fog.

Michael glared at his friend, envious of his careless slumber and then sighing deeply he dug out his cell phone intending to do what he had been hoping would be unnecessary; calling Sara to give her and Heather the bad news. He sighed again and looked at the clock; it was 5:03am, which made it 7:03 in Chicago. He figured they would be up, but they wouldn't be leaving for the airport until around 9:00. Maybe he should wait a bit...if the fog burned off soon; they could still make it on time for the ceremony.

Closing his phone softly he promised himself he would only wait a little while longer...He would call her soon. The last thing he wanted was for them to come to meet a plane that had never left the ground. And he knew they were planning to meet them. Sara and Heather had insisted even though Michael and Lincoln were to have a car waiting there for them. Dropping Jane's name did seem to have its uses.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket he leaned back and closed his tired eyes, just needing to rest them for a few minutes.

Despite his anxiety he dozed off almost instantly, the long night having finally caught up with him...

XXXXX

He stirred and lifted his head, his neck stiff from the angle at which it had rested against the hard backed seat. His eyes shot open as an instant clarity filled him. He had fallen asleep.

His anxious eyes moved to the clock on the wall. 6:20. He let out his breath in relief. And then saying a silent prayer he let his eyes move to the window. The sun was up and had the fog cleared a little?

As if in answer to both his prayer and his question, a voice overhead, much too feminine to be God, filled his ears. "Flight 507 to Chicago will be boarding in ten minutes. The fog has diminished significantly and we expect no further delays. Los Angeles International would like to thank you for you patience."

Michael let out his breath. They could still make it…it would be close, but it could be done. He turned to the still sleeping Lincoln and roughly shook him. "Hey Linc, wake up! Wake up!"

Lincoln stirred and looked around bleary eyed. "Whaz…What?" He wiped the drool from the side of his face and licked his lips. "What's goin' on?"

Michael looked at him for a moment and then shook his head. "It must be nice to have slept through the entire layover."

Linc looked at him quizzically. "Lay over?"

Michael just sighed and reached for his cell phone.

He flipped open his cell and brought up his phone book. Pressing the button that would connect him to Sara, he brought it up to his ear and leaned back listening to the incessant ringing.

"Come on Sara, answer. "

He looked over to Linc who now had his own phone next to his ear. But from the sounds of it he had gotten Heather's voice mail. Had they already left for the airport...had they both forgotten their phones?

"Fuck!" His voice was loud as Sara's voice mail instructed him to leave a message. He ended the call only to try again.

"Come on Sara, pick up."

They would be boarding soon and who knew when, or even if they would be able to use their phones once in the air.

He was about to hang up when her breathless voice filled his ear, "Michael! Did you already land...you said 10:00 our time, right?"

She must have had to run for the phone to be so out of breath. He sighed and closed his eyes, "Hey, Sara...No um...We're still in LA."

She was quiet for a beat, and then, "Oh, um...okay...well when do you think you will be here?"

"Soon I promise. I'm so sorry Sara. I thought I had it all worked out. I mean, we had plenty of time...But I didn't consider the fog...I didn't factor in the possibility of a flight delay." He scraped a hand over his head as his eyes moved to the brightening sky; the fog had indeed loosened it's hold and was burning away.

She was quiet again, the phone in his hand silent as he waited for her to speak.

"Fog huh?...It's okay Michael. I mean it's not your fault...I mean you can't predict the weather...I understand if you can't make it on time." She was trying to make him feel better he knew, but her voice held a disappointment she couldn't quite hide.

"Sara, we're boarding in a few minutes. We're gonna be there...maybe a little late...But we'll be there I promise." He heard her relieved sigh and smiled. "You'll have to go on without us of course...Tell Heather we'll meet you guys there."

When she spoke again he could hear the smile in her voice. ""I'll tell her Michael."  
After a beat, "I can't wait to see you..."

"I know...Soon Sara. I'll be there soon."

The announcement to board filled his ears and he knew those flying first class would be boarding within minutes. "Um, I have to go, we're boarding...I love you."

He listened to the sweet sound of her response and then flipped his phone closed.

(Sara)

"Elke Marie Ryan!" Sara jumped as the name filled the stadium.

She watched as the young woman walked forward to receive her scroll.  
Her anxiety growing, Sara let her eyes move away and back to the aisles. She forced them away again. A moment later she was once scanning the faces of the friend's and family of her fellow graduates.

She told herself to just stop it. They would either make it on time or not make it on time. Her worrying wasn't going to get them there before they started on the S's no matter how diligently she watched the aisles of the stadium.

She let her eyes move to her father and smiled as she watched him speaking with the Scofields. Sara had met Michael and Heather's parents briefly upon arrival to the stadium. A quick introduction to her father later she was being dragged away by Heather to don their caps and gowns.

She felt a small amount of satisfaction that at least something had gone well. She was happy that the threesome had chosen to sit together. Her smile widened when her father's proud eyes met her own. She knew this day meant almost as much to him as it did to her.

She took a deep breath and looked to where Heather was seated. One look at her friend's face however made her wish she hadn't. While once reassuring, Heather's blue eyes now echoed the worry Sara herself was feeling. God, they really weren't going to make it, were they?

"Kimberly Louise Sanders!" At the announcement Sara put her hands together automatically and ripped her eyes away from Heather's. She was feeling slightly sick.

She took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before slowly blowing it out, telling herself to relax and just breathe.

"Jennifer Lynn Samuels!" Sara placed her palms flat on her thighs to keep from twisting them. She looked down at them and tried to relax...but it was becoming more and more difficult with the announcement of each graduate's name.

"Samantha Michelle Saunders!"

Heather's name would be called soon. Where were they?

She looked up and her breath caught at the sight of him. He was in the aisle with Lincoln beside him. She felt her heart beat escalate. They made it! Her eyes drank him in for a brief moment, not nearly satisfying her thirst for the sight of him before she was forced to pull her eyes away. They were about to announce Heather's name.

"Heather Christina Scofield!"

Sara's eyes moved to her friend. She didn't have to wonder if Heather had seen the two late comers, her eyes were sparkling. Sara watched as Heather received her scroll, her hands clapping so loudly they stung.

And then her hungry eyes fled back to Michael. He and Lincoln were standing in the aisle watching Heather. Once she was seated they began to make their way to the seats that were reserved for them.

Sara watched as Michael hugged his mother and shook his father's hand. And then his eyes were scanning the graduates looking for her. She sat forward a little and raised her hand slightly off her thigh in a small wave.

And then she was looking into his blue eyes. He grinned. She saw his mouth begin to move. She smiled as she read the words on his lips. A perfect "I love you," which she mouthed back without hesitation. She let her eyes move over him, the white shirt the black pants. He had dressed up for her. So what if his clothes were a bit wrinkly?

"Sara Angela Tancredi!" Her own name startled her out of her drunken state and she stood up almost too quickly. She made her way forward and accepted her scroll, her eyes filling with tears instantly as the emotions of all this meant suddenly hit her.

She had been so caught up in Michael it had taken this piece of paper in her tight grip to bring it home. She was one step closer to becoming a doctor. She knew her mother would have been so proud of her.

And this time when Sara looked to the audience she looked to her father. And when her eyes met his she saw enough love shining in his eyes for two.


	40. Chapter 40

The rest of the ceremony dragged on, each name spoken bringing closer the moment she craved. And then finally it was over, she was free.

Sara made her way off the stage and quickly through the aisle, moving around the milling guests, her heart leading her along the path mentally drawn in her head. And then Michael was in her sights. Her footsteps quickened as her heart leapt forward.

Just as she reached the aisle her father stepped out blocking Michael from her line of vision. "Sara, I'm so proud of you sweetheart," His voice was deep with the tears he fought so hard to conceal as he pulled her into his warm embrace.

She buried her face in her father's shoulder and told herself not to cry, but the tears fell stubbornly down her cheeks, their tracks shining in the bright stadium lighting.

He pulled away a little. "Your mother would have been so proud of you little girl."

Sara nodded, and smiling through her tears, she met his eyes, "I know Dad."

He smoothed the hair away from her face and then stepped back, a warm smile in place. "I think there is someone else waiting to congratulate you."

She followed her father's gaze to Michael, who was standing patiently a few feet away. "That's Michael. I want you to meet him, Dad." She spoke her eyes never leaving Michael's.

Frank nodded. "I will sweetheart, you go on now."

No other words were needed as she practically flew at Michael, her arms finding him as she had longed to for so many days, hours; minutes. She pulled him close, his scent filling her, the warmth of him under her fingers thrilling her, he was finally home.

"You made it," she said softly against his neck. "I knew you would make it. I hoped you would."

His fingers were in her hair, and then he was gently cupping her face in his strong fingers, the pad of his thumb tracing a lazy circle on her tear dampened cheek as he looked at her. "I promised I would make it."

"You did." She smiled into his eyes, so deep with emotion…so blue; much bluer then the dreams that had filled her nights these past months.

"I missed you," this was whispered only for his ears.

He nodded. "I know. I missed you too…" He leaned in and kissed her forehead gently, his lips soft against her skin.

And then he was pulling away, his hands falling to her shoulders to fiddle with her hair. "You looked good up there Tancredi."

She laughed. I look silly in this cap and gown."

Michael grinned. "You look beautiful, Sara."

"Thank you." Smiling and wanting his lips on hers, but knowing this wasn't the time or place she stepped back from him, letting her fingers trail to his hand. "Hey, you have to meet my dad."

"Okay."

Gripping his hand tightly as if he might disappear, she led Michael the few feet to where Frank stood watching them. Sara felt her cheeks redden at the thought of what her father had just witnessed.

Once by his side she cleared her throat. "Um, Dad this is my boyfriend Michael. Michael, my father… Frank Tancredi."

Michael didn't hesitate, his hand coming up to clasp Frank's in a warm handshake. "It's nice to meet you Sir, I've heard a lot about you."

Franks took his proffered hand in his and clasped him on the shoulder, "It's wonderful to finally meet you, Michael. And don't you believe a word what this one says about me."

Sara loved the twinkle in her father's eyes. She hoped it was a good sign that he liked Michael.

Michael grinned at the teasing. "You have a wonderful daughter here, Mr. Tancredi." He squeezed her hand gently as he spoke."

"Please, call me Frank; you'll make me feel old!"

"Frank it is." Michael's grin was growing.

Sara felt her own smile claim her face. And then Heather shot passed her to Michael. Within seconds she was hugging him. Sara stepped back and watched the warm embrace between the two siblings.

"God, I missed you!" He swung Heather around making her squeal. When he let her go Sara saw the tears in her friend's eyes.

"I did it Mike!"

Michael laughed. "You did…I'm so proud of you Heather bear."

Heather stepped back, her eyes shooting over her shoulder to their parents who were standing off to the side. "You should say something to mom and dad, you know?"

Michael nodded, his eyes losing some of their sparkle. "Sara?"

Brown copper met blue, "Yeah?"

He held out his hand. "I know you probably already met my parents, but…"

He didn't have to finish. She nodded and reached out, her small fingers twisting into his. She knew Michael hadn't truly spoken to his parents in over a year, he had told her so himself. She let him lead her the small distance and then stood next to him, her hand never leaving his as his parent's eyes moved over him.

"Mom…Dad. You've met Sara?" Christina Scofield's eyes moved to Sara, the same shade of blue as Michael's, the same shape, but still so different, as they lacked warmth.

Sara smiled, eliciting a slight up turning of lips in response to her offered warmth and then Michael's mother turned back to her son, her eyes steadily upon him. "So, Michael how was California this time?"

Michael's eyes met his mother's taking on their iciness to perfection. "California's great, Mom. But I'm glad to be home."

"You know this is a waste of time, son." Michael's eyes moved to his father.

"Everything I do is a waste of time, Dad, right? Why should this be any different?"  
Not waiting for an answer. "Come on Sara, we don't need this shit."

"Michael!" Sara looked back as the feminine voice rang out behind them.

Her hand clutched tightly in his hand, she pulled him to a stop. "Michael, maybe you should…" She faltered at the look on his face. He looked angry, but there was something more…the hurt look in his eyes ceasing her unspoken words until they were a vaporous nothing no longer important.

"Never mind, let's go, "she managed instead, and squeezing his hand she led him back to where her father, Heather and Linc stood waiting.

XXXXX

"So then Sara looked up at him her eyes all wide, you know how they get, right Michael?"

"Dad!" Sara cupped her head in her hands.

She felt like she was going to die of embarrassment if her father told one more childhood, wasn't Sara just the cutest little thing story.

Her father ignored her, too caught up in the telling of the story to stop just then, "And then she said to him in an all business like way, "if you don't let me wear the wings I won't be able to fly!"

Michael laughed along with her father, his deep rumble filling her ears as her eyes met with his twinkling blue ones.

When their laughter had subsided, "No more stories Dad, promise me?" Sara was moving to stand. "I'm going to the restroom. Please don't let me come back to how I tried to paint my doll house with Mayonnaise!"

"She did too!" Frank laughed and slapped his knee.

"Arrg!" Sara shook her head, but she couldn't help but smile as she headed towards the restrooms at the back of the restaurant.

Sara, Michael and Frank had gone straight to dinner after leaving the ceremony, while Heather and Lincoln had elected to take off for some alone time. Sara would have loved to do the same but she wanted her father to get to know Michael. And so far he seemed to genuinely like her boyfriend which she hoped would make the news that she would be spending the summer with him in LA easier to swallow.

She pushed open the restroom door and headed for the sinks to check her make up. She rubbed at a smudge of mascara and then looked at herself, marveling at the glow that was now present in her cheeks. It was Michael and she knew it. She smiled softly and was turning from the sink when the door opened and closed with a tell tale click.

Sara's eyes moved to the door, landing on his tall frame. He was leaning against the door smiling, his long fingers seductively stroking a button on his white shirt. She remembered the last time he had 'trapped' her in a bathroom. It had been at the club the night after her drunken acts at the party. She had been so nervous then. Now that they were finally alone together she found herself with a flutter of those same nerves, but for a very different reason.

She had yet to move when he spoke. "You comfortable over there or something?" The smile on his face sent a thrill through her body and then he was moving.

The distance short, his legs long, he was in front of her within seconds, his eyes ablaze with promises. His hands came up to cup her face and then his lips were on hers a searing hot memory made anew with fervor. His tongue so welcome, his lips so wanting she gave into the feelings coursing through her and melded against him, each curve fitting against hard muscle as if he had never left her.

She let her fingers move over him, the feel of his shirt against her fingers a barrier against the skin she craved to touch. Her hands moved of their own volition as the shirt was pulled free of his pants and her fingers given free reign to explore made haste to fullfill their desires.

He felt so good against her, so ready, each thrust of his tongue speaking volumes to her inner heat. She was pressed against him, his fingers hot against her bare midrift where her shirt had ridden up. She closed her eyes and his lips moved along her neck promising to devour her if given the time and opportunity.

His fingers grazed her hips moving along her body with stealth. She moaned low in her throat and forced herself away from him, breaking the spell he had cast upon her.

"Your father is out there...waiting." He spoke her thoughts.

She nodded, her eyes a coppery darkness, her breath coming fast, "Yes, we should um, we have to go back out there."

He smiled and reached to stroke her cheek with his thumb, "We do. Besides, this is not exactly ideal."

"No it's not, " she agreed gratefully.

As they headed for the door she scolded herself mentally; so much for taking things slow this time around.


	41. Chapter 41

(Michael)

The last thing he wanted was to let her go, to stop, but he meant what he said, it wasn't ideal. No, ideal would be his posh hotel suite, the Jacuzzi in his suite to be exact. But he wasn't sure how likely that was to happen tonight. Sara's father was staying at the apartment and it probably wouldn't be a good idea to drop him off so he could make time with the man's daughter. Besides he wasn't sure how fast to take this. He didn't want her to think he was rushing things.

He tucked his hands deeply into his pockets and let his eyes drink her in as he followed her back to the table where her father was waiting, with more stories no doubt. Michael smiled to himself at the thought of Frank Tancredi's stories and the affect his telling of them had on Sara. She was so cute when she was embarrassed. That was one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place...one of the things.

Once at the table he pulled his eyes from the vision of her in her summer dress and took his seat across from her father.

"The two of you get lost or something?" Frank's eyes were a twinkle. 

Michael grinned at the blush that crept up on Sara's cheeks but said nothing. Frank was a keeper that was for sure.

(A short time later)

She moved against him and sighed, not wanting to leave him, not wanting to be apart, to spend the night mere miles from him and yet so far.

"I should go in. My dad might be understanding, but he's not that understanding." She eased away from him, his arms moving from around her with an almost tangible reluctance.

"I like him, your dad. He's really great Sara."

She snuggled against him then figuring this would be as good a time as any to tell him. Her head was resting on his shoulder, the feel of his warmth through the thin shirt against her cheek a long missed comfort. "He likes you too, Michael, I can tell." A beat later, "I just hope he still likes you when he finds out I'm spending the summer with you in California."

Michael sat quietly, unmoving for a moment. It wasn't until she lifted her head that he turned his body to face her. "You didn't tell him about LA?" His tone was even but she thought she detected a bit of disappointment in his words. 

She met his eyes in the darkness of the car. "I wasn't sure how to do it…tell him."

He let out his breath. "Then you haven't changed your mind? You're still planning to come?"

So that was what he was worried about, that she had changed her mind? She shook her head. "No…God, no Michael!" She cupped his face in her hands. "I want this more then anything. Being without you has...Nothing is going to stop me from spending the summer with you Michael. I just…I don't want to hurt my father. He was looking forward to having me home for the summer…I'm all he has left since my mother…" She trailed off, her eyes filling. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to do this."

She was wiping at her eyes when he gently took her hand in his. "Shh," he brushed the hair from her face and leaned in kissing her cheeks, her nose, her eyes, kissing away her tears until she was looking deeply within his eyes, her coppery depths meeting a cloudless blue. And then she closed her eyes as a cue. A moment later his lips found hers in a gentle kiss.

XXXXX

His fingers were in her hair, his lips along her neck; the pulse at her throat beating hard against his tongue. Despite her resolve to go inside she was still here with him, one kiss turning into another, their fingers moving over skin desperate to be touched.

She moaned and leaned into him her breath coming faster, her lips tasting of the licorice she had nibbled on the way to the apartment. God he would never again eat it where he didn't think of this moment, the taste of her; the feel of her in his arms.

He felt her against him and it was killing him, the barrier of clothing. Her thighs once milky white against his black pants, were now pink, her body flushed where his fingers had traveled eagerly.

She found his lips and devoured them once again taking his breath. Her mouth trailed away and she reached and grabbed the pack of licorice and pressed a piece of it to his lips sliding it inside his hot mouth. He moaned around it as she shifted against him, the taste filling him, as her body slid along his making him hotter in the warm car.

She pulled the candy away and ran its warm sticky tip along his jaw only to follow the trail with her hot tongue within seconds. He ran his fingers up under her skirt and along her damp panties making her buck against his fingers. She was so wet. So ready…He needed her now. He fumbled with his pants, the zip sticking for a beat in his haste and then he was pushing the obstructing articles aside, shoving at her panties until he could slide into her.

She gasped as he moved inside her, the length of him filling her. And then she was moving, her lithe body aglow in the moonlight. He ran his fingers along her dress, her nipples hard beneath the thin fabric. She was sweating, her skin glistening. He reached and licked along her neck tasting her, the sweetness of her skin, salty against his tongue.

She moaned low in her throat and met his eyes, molten copper melding into hot blue searing him to his soul. God she was so hot...it was so hot in the car...He felt his thighs shaking, as the sweat ran its slick fingers along his neck, trails of spent energy that she reached to lick away.

And then her lips were back, her tongue darting into his mouth eating his moans...God it was so hot!

"Michael," her voice was in his ear soft, velvety sweet. "Michael, oh God, Michael!"

And then the sound of ringing filled his ears and he was bolting up from the water that had soothed him to sleep, the bubbling of the Jacuzzi jets shooting against his overly aroused flesh.

"Ah, damn!" He leaned back and closed his eyes and then reached for his cell phone.

"Sara, hey. I was just ah, I was just thinking about you."

He ran a wet hand over his shorn head, droplets of water running down his face to mix with the sweat.

And then listening to her voice, he eased lower into the tub wishing she were there with him. But he had left her at the apartment over an hour ago. He closed his eyes and tried to push the images of the dream out of his head, telling himself he could do this, he could take this as slow as she wanted.


	42. Chapter 42

After a huge breakfast with Sara's father, Lincoln and Heather, Michael was glad to finally be alone with Sara.

He pulled out into traffic without a clue where they were even going.

"You ain't seen nothin' till your down on a muffin and then you're sure to be a-changin' your ways."

Michael reached and turned the volume down, Steven Tyler's voice now barely audible inside the car.

"So what should we do now?"

He glanced her way and then his eyes fell on the package of licorice he had picked up earlier that morning. He had awakened with a killer craving for the stuff. He grabbed the last Red vine and stuck it in his mouth for a bite.

She reached and took it from his fingers innocently. "I don't know, but can I have a bite of your licorice? I've been eyeing it since before breakfast, but I didn't want to spoil my appetite.

"Um, sure yeah," He was stopped at a light and his eyes soon fixated on her lips as she took the licorice into her mouth.

"What? Why are you staring at me like that?" And then she looked at the licorice. "Oh," no sooner had the word left her lips then a slight blush moved up her cheeks.

He hadn't told her about the dream. But he was being pretty obvious. "I'm sorry I ah, um…"

She reached and stroked his cheek. "It's okay… I want that too…I just…I think we need to spend some time getting to know each other again before we…"

He nodded. "Absolutely…your right we should."

She handed him the licorice. "So we could go play Putt-Putt?"

He grinned. "Only if you feel like getting your pants beat off."

"Bring it on, Scofield!"

XXXXX

"Watch this," she said and then knocked the pink golf ball into the hole. She looked up with a grin. "I think that shot nails it. I think I just won." She was hopping up and down in victory. "Ha, so much for a certain someone beating my pants off!"

Michael lifted his gaze from the green, a sexy smile playing across his features lighting his eyes with a devilish glow. "Well if your pants had really been the wager I don't think you would be doing a happy victory dance right now."

"Oh really? So your saying if the stakes were high enough you could beat me?"

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Just sayin'…"

He grinned and sized her up. Sara returned the favor her eyes roving over his wife beater and faded jeans. He had tossed his long sleeved shirt in the back seat of the car before they hit the green. She glanced around. They were relatively alone. The only other people at least two holes back. She smiled sweetly and let her putter fall to the green. And then she was in front of him, her hands falling on his hips.

His putter hit the ground moments later his hands coming up to cup her face. She gazed into his sun lightened eyes and then they fluttered closed behind dark lashes. Unable to resist this beckon she pulled his hips against hers and moved closer until his mouth landed in a soft caress against her own, his closeness making her ache.

She lifted her hands and they made their way into his back pockets as the kiss deepened, his tongue hot; his lips soft as she pressed against him. His fingers once on her face were now tangled in her hair, her scalp tingling, sending shivers along her back and arms.

"Michael," she pulled away breathless at the sound of approaching voices. The last thing they needed was a lecture from someone's upset parents.

"Come on we should, um go."

He grinned then, the smile in his aroused eyes not making her heart lessen its frantic gallop.

He broke eye contact long enough to lean and gather up their putters, and then grabbing her hand they headed back to the front of Pirate's Paradise.

XXXXX

"I wanna be there when you call… I wanna catch you when you fall…  
I wanna be the one you need… I wanna be the one you breathe…"

The music was loud, the band on the stage pounding it out, the rhythm intoxicating. Sara moved in her seat and glanced around looking for Michael. He was getting them another drink, not like she really needed another one; she was already floating along nicely. The main reason for their being at Club Kid was up next. Fluid pain would be taking the stage soon. Michael had promised they would stop in for a bit to check out the new lead singer and drummer and well just to hang out. Sara knew he missed his friends so when he brought it up she had agreed that it was a great idea. But now as the alcohol fueled her senses she found that she more and more just wanted to get him alone. But they wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, Lincoln and Heather were due to arrive at any moment.

"I wanna be there when you cry…And when you're down I'll help you fly  
I wanna be the one you need…I wanna be the one you breathe…"

She let her eyes move over the dancing bodies and there he was winding his way back to her, drinks in hand. He set the drinks down, and then fingers still wet with condensation, he grabbed her hand and pulled her up and into his arms. She moved against him pressing her body to fit the contours of his chest, her lips grazing his neck.

He pulled away, a sexy smile in place. "Let's dance," he mouthed, but she was already moving leading him to the dance floor.

She wanted to feel him moving against her. She wouldn't let herself think about the flight that would take him away tomorrow, she would only think about this moment, tonight, with him.

She pulled him closer and melded against him….

"But I'm coming back, and I'm taking back everything I can… its breaking me up and tearing me up…It's all I have and I'm coming back, and I'm taking back everything I can… It's breaking me up and tearing me up…It's all I have…"

His arms were around her, his body so close she could smell the light scent of him; soap mixed with sweat, making her heart pound harder, faster. The club was sweltering hot tonight, what with so many bodies packed into a small venue. She let her tongue trail lightly across his neck and she would have sworn he shivered in the heat. God, this felt so good, being here with him, so right. She could feel the moisture of his body through his thin T-shirt, as they moved…

Her own clothing was sticking to her curves in an uncomfortable caress made enjoyable only by his fingers moving along her body. She could do this forever, touch him…meld to his touch.

She moved her fingers along the stubble on his jaw, her fingertips coming alive with the sensation. And then she was pulling his lips to her own, her tongue lightly stroking his bottom lip before delving into his mouth. The kiss was making her head spin, filling her senses to overload. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was just all of the pent up feelings, emotions the song was stirring within her…

"I wanna be there when you call…I wanna catch you when you fall  
I wanna be the one you need…I wanna be the one you breathe…"

XXXXX

He was quiet, had been for a little while now. The night had gone by rather quickly and now it was just the two of them, the silent car and the smell of cigarette smoke still lingering on their clothes.

"He's good."

She cast her eyes to his profile, the street lights hitting his stubble graced cheeks as they sped along the wet streets. At some point while they were inside Club Kid it had rained, slicking the roads, washing away the remnants of the day.

He turned to her a little meeting her quizzical eyes. "Josh, the new guy, he's got an awesome voice."

"Yeah, he is good," she said softly, and then, "Are you okay?"

He flipped on the turn signal and turned into the parking lot of the apartments. He pulled into a parking spot and let the engine die before turning to her.

"Yeah, I'm okay…I guess it just kind of finalizes things, seeing the new guy, my replacement. It's like there's no going back, you know?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I know. But you've moved forward, Michael. You're making a CD, you're…" His fingers moved over her lips, "Shhh…I don't want the last few minutes of our night to be about me and my stupid shit. I'll be okay, I'll get over it. I should never have mentioned it."

"No, Michael. I'm glad you did. There was a time you would have closed off from me and not said anything about this, about what you were feeling. The fact that you opened up to me about this…It means…" She felt tears spring up in her eyes and fought them back. "It means a lot to me, that's all."

"Hey," his fingers moved through the dimly lit car to stroke her cheek.

She moved closer, as close as she could get with the consol between them. And then looking up at him, her coppery eyes alight, "Kiss me and tell me you love me?"

He grinned. "That's an easy one." He leaned in and his lips met hers in a sweet kiss that would linger with her for days.

He pulled back then, his eyes meeting hers. "Now for the 'I love you' part." She giggled and he smiled, but then his eyes fell serious. "I do love you Sara…So much…And I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't agreed to come to California with me…I." Her lips stopped his next words. As far as she was concerned everything had been said.

She brought her fingers up to run along his face urging him closer as his fingers moved down around her drawing her near. She felt the hardness of the consol biting into her as the kiss grew heated and then she was climbing over it and onto his lap to straddle him.

He fumbled with the seat easing it back as far as it would go and then she was pressing against him their bodies a frantic dance in the moon light as fingers explored as tongues clashed. She never wanted this to end, if only they could just stay here, stop time somehow…But then he was pulling away from her catching his breath.

"No, don't stop, Michael…" She moved back to his lips, her mouth trialing along his jaw to his neck.

He pulled back a little more, "Sara, your making this hard…Almost impossible for me to take this slow…"

Sara nodded, "I know, God, Michael you probably think I'm teasing you, I swear I don't mean to…I just…I missed you..."

"I don't think that, Sara...I don't." His lips gently found hers then and She welcomed the light touch of his tongue the sweet warmth of his touch. The kiss ended and he rested his forehead against hers.

They sat in silence for a moment and then, "I don't wanna go in."

"I know." He moved until their eyes met.

She sighed and disentangled herself from him knowing that the night truly was over. Her father was most likely asleep and snoring on the sofa having attempted to wait up for her.

XXX

She reached for his hand as he walked her to the door, his fingers closing around hers. Once at the door he leaned and kissed her gently, his lips lingering. And then she was fitting the key into the lock. She turned to him before pushing the door open "I had a great time today, Michael."

A smile hit his lips, "Me too. I'll see you tomorrow, Sara." He was backing down the walk watching her as she pushed open the door, and then she was inside closing and locking the door behind her.

XXXXX

(Monday)

The day went quickly, too quickly. It seemed like Sara had just jumped out of bed and he was already leaving.

They had spent the day together, her and Michael. After breakfast with her father, Heather and Lincoln, they had taken off for a few hours to be alone, a few hours that turned into the entire day. They had gone to the rooftop for a while and then Michael had insisted they drive to the old park.

Time had flown with the two of them holding each other and talking about their hopes for the next few years. It was a day she would never forget.

She tried to tack a smile on her face now, reminding herself she would be joining him in LA in just a few short days but it was difficult. It was going to be hard watching him walk towards that plane.

"Saturday, Sara."

She nodded and looked up to meet his eyes. "I know it's only a few days, but…" She leaned into him unable to finish, the words sticking in her throat.

He held her close, his fingers in her hair. "We'll have the whole summer Sara…and then." He trailed off leaving the rest unspoken.

They had talked about medical school and her choices. If she decided to return to Chicago it would mean living in separate states again. She had always planned to stay in Chicago ideally, but now…

She tried to push it out of her head. She had applied to a few different schools and she knew the decision she made would depend on where she was accepted. It was best not to think about it until her choices were clearly in front of her in the form of acceptance letters.

She lifted her head to meet his eyes now and tried to smile. "I'll miss you, you know?"

He nodded and leaned in until his lips were brushing hers in a light caress. And then he was pulling back, his eyes moving to the clock.

"It's time, I know.' She said and reached for the door handle that would lead them out into the parking garage and one step closer to being alone.

XXXXX

(Later)

He was gone, leaving behind emptiness she had expected, but not to the extent she was feeling; had felt since walking him to security. She would remind herself she would be seeing him soon and then realize she missed him all the more. Sighing deeply she slipped the photo of Michael into her book and leaned her head back against the pillow.

The day had been long leaving her exhausted. Michael's departure had been followed by a late dinner with her father, her intention to tell him her summer plans. She hadn't been able to do it. She had sat through dinner trying to work up the courage to even bring up the subject and failed. She would do it tomorrow, she had to. He was leaving, heading back to Michigan on Wednesday and she didn't want to spring it on him at the last minute.

Her reluctance came from the guilt she was feeling she knew, but she couldn't help feeling guilty leaving him alone for the summer. She had spent all of her summers home since she could remember…well since her mom died. No summer camps, no vacations with friends…not that they could afford such extravagances anyways, but she had wanted them all the same; had felt left out when her friends came home with stories about camp and later the cool vacation spots they had visited.

She sighed and closed her eyes now against the harsh white ceiling. And then telling herself she would speak with her father tomorrow she drifted off to sleep, a pair of blue eyes behind her closed eyelids the last thing she would see before awakening to the morning sun.

(Lyrics: Walk this way by Aerosmith)

(Lyrics: Fade away by Seether) 


	43. Chapter 43

(Michael)

"Could someone do something about the bags under their eyes?" Jane stood, hands on hips, jaw set, eyes ablaze with blue heat.

Michael could tell she was in a bad mood when they showed up twenty minutes late, but her mood had surpassed bad quickly and headed straight for pissed-hot with her snipping and snapping at everyone over the least little thing.

He kept his cool now while the make-up was applied under his eyes and tried not to let Jane's mood rub off on him. He relaxed as the girl moved away and started on Lincoln.

When the bags were covered, bags he hadn't been aware either of them had despite their late night, the girl moved away. Jane studied the two of them intently and then seemingly satisfied that they were camera worthy she nodded and turned on her heel.

"I'm going to get a diet cola, call me if you need me." This was said to the photographer who merely nodded and adjusted his lens.

Michael was sick of this already and it was barely an hour into the shoot. Stand up, sit down, smile, scowl…they were basically being treated like puppets and what he wanted to do was just go grab a beer and relax.

He resisted the urge to rub at his eyes to avoid messing up the make-up. He had to admit he was tired; their plane had gotten in late, his head hitting the pillow past one in the morning. And then of course he had just laid there thinking about Sara unable to get her coppery eyes out of his head.

Her eyes, her mouth, the taste of her…and then there was the conversation they had had while out at the old park. He had tried not to think about that, but how could he not? He wanted their summer together to be special, and he was going to make it special if it killed him, but her words, her indecision about their future at summer's end was what had really kept him awake last night, kept him tossing and turning.

He had wanted her to say she would stay with him, that they would make it work somehow, someway. But those words hadn't been spoken, making him rethink his plans, and he didn't want to rethink his plans. He wanted to ask her, but only if he knew her answer before hand.

He wanted to know that she would say yes when he asked her to marry him and right now he wasn't so sure...

He moved his hand to the back of his head as instructed and looked at the camera, his thoughts a million miles away…or at least a thousand…His thoughts were back in Chicago with Sara…back in that car holding her as they spoke…holding her so she couldn't see what her talk of a future that might not include staying in LA with him had reflected in his eyes.

(Sara)

"Um, Dad could we, um," Sara cleared her throat and tried again, "Um, I was wondering if we could talk for a minute?"

Frank looked up from the Chicago Sun Times crossword. Seeing the serious expression set in his daughter's eyes he set the puzzle aside. "Of course, Sweetheart, is there something wrong?"

She shook her head, her auburn locks falling to shield her eyes. Her father reached and like so many times she could remember in the past, he gently brushed the hair back from her face to meet her eyes with a love and kindness she would always cherish.

She hesitated for just a moment telling herself to just do it, that she had to live her own life. But she was so afraid of hurting him, it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Taking a deep breath she let the words race out before she could lose her nerve, "Dad, I'm spending the summer in California...With Michael."

Sara wasn't sure what reaction she was expecting, but her father still managed to surprise her. "Well of course you are." At her stunned look, "He makes you happy. I can see that, Sara. I noticed the change in you right away. The second you saw him your eyes lit up." Frank smiled and reached for her hand. "And I also noticed how his leaving has affected you. It reminded me of your mother and me, of how we couldn't bear to be apart for even a minute. We were so in love…" Frank's smile turned wistful, his daughter still staring on in stunned silence.

She hadn't expected this; for him to be so understanding, to give them his blessing. "I love him Daddy, I do, so much."

Frank nodded. "Then you go be with him, Sara." And then as if reading her thoughts, "Don't you worry about your old Dad; I'll be fine…Maybe even go fishing."

"You're not old, Dad…57 isn't old."

He waved her away, a grin in place. "So how about a little help, college grad? I seem to be having a senior moment. What's a five letter word for melody?" He picked up his puzzle and looked at her inquisitively.

Sara grinned as the answer fell from her lips, "Music."

(Michael)

"You wanted to see me?" He stood in the doorway his hands shoved in the pockets of jeans the exact shade of his steely eyes. He was in no mood to speak with Jane, but she had insisted so here he was, still he didn't have to be happy about it, not after the pain in the ass she had been all morning at the photo shoot.

Without looking up from her computer screen she motioned for him to have a seat. Sighing deeply he reluctantly moved to the chair in front of her desk and plopped down in it. "What's up Jane?"

Her eyes met his as she looked up, blue frost on blue steel. "What's up is an opportunity, for you and Lincoln. MusicFarm. I'm still working out the details, but the two of you will need to be in New York by Friday evening. This event will put the two of you out there, get you noticed."

Michael felt like the chair had been yanked out from under him. His feet hit the floor and he was suddenly standing, 6'1 of pissed off looking down at her where she sat, hands clasped in front of her in, a satisfied smile on her cool features.

"No."

He watched her blink at his flat out refusal and then her smile fell and her eyes locked on his. "You don't tell me no, Michael. As if you need reminding you have a contract."

He leaned forward then his hands on her desk staring her dead on. "I did tell you no and that's what this is all about isn't it? You know Sara's coming on Saturday. You know I need to be here. You set this up to fuck up my plans." His whole body was thrumming with anger, his fingers turning white from the pressure he was extending into the desk.

She laughed and Michael pictured the evil queen in every fairytale ever written. "I'm not leaving town. And not only am I not leaving town, but I have two words for you, Jane, sexual harassment."

Her eyes took on a more leeching chill, but he had had enough. He was halfway to the door when she spoke up behind him. "How do you think your girlfriend will feel if she finds out about what happened…between you and me?"

Blue steel hit the door for a beat, and then he was turning, his eyes intense. "How do you think your boss will feel when he learns that the first client you brought in can't work with you because you can't keep your hands to yourself?" Not waiting for an answer, "Now if you don't mind, I'm five seconds late for going over your head."

He was almost out the door, "Wait, Michael, wait a minute."

He turned and closed the door. She was looking down at her desk as if in thought and then she grabbed a piece of paper and jotted something down. "Not that I think your claims would hold much water, but I do see that this relationship is not working out."

She extended her arm the paper held out to him. He approached and took it. He glanced at it, Rick Carr and then a phone number in hasty scribble.

"Rick is good; he can take care of you…and Lincoln. I've recently signed a few new clients so my claim that I need to hand some of them off will be believable."

Michael blinked at her in amazement. She was scared, despite what she had said, that a claim of sexual harassment would be written off, she was afraid.

He looked once more to the slip of paper in his hand and then his eyes moved back to Jane. He nodded, "Okay, then this is finished."

She nodded. "Good, I'll set everything up with Rick, and then you're his problem."

She looked back at her screen dismissing him.

He stared at her for a beat longer, and then slip of paper in hand, he headed out the door feeling as if a great weight had been removed from his shoulders.

XXXXX

"I search the world for someone I'll never find. Someone who ain't the hurtin' kind. If you stay the night. ..We'll make the wrong seem right…So come on now...Rock me…Rock me…Roll me through the night! Rock me…rock me…"

Michael shut off the car, sending the sounds of Great White into the silent abyss where as far he was concerned they belonged. He looked to Linc who was staring out the window the picture of distraction.

He eyed his friend for a moment before speaking and then, "You know Great White…I bet they thought they had it made? And now look at them, I mean where are they now, really? They're gone. Poof, never to be heard from again." When this got no response, "I kind of got used to being, you know, infamous? What if we get used to this life only to become Great White?"

"I guess there's always Chicago, huh?" Lincoln spoke with a little laugh.

"Your right, fuck it, we should just go back now." Their eyes met and they broke out in laughter. Yeah right, Like that would ever happen. They were in it for the long haul and they both knew it.

And then Linc was pushing open the car door. He hopped out and Michael joined him setting the alarm on his corvette. He followed Linc to Drum Center and was reaching for the door when Lincoln shot right passed without even a glance at the place.

Michael followed; his curiosity peaked as he wondered where his friend was headed. Linc had specifically asked him if he minded stopping off at the music store on the way to dinner. His eyes moved with interest along the many stores and specialty shops. When Lincoln stopped in front of a jewelry store he quickly caught up with him and grabbed his arm. "You know I love you man, but if you were hoping to surprise me with something pretty…" Lincoln gave him a look and he grinned. "Come on I'm joking. What are we doing here?"

Lincoln took a deep breath his eyes more serious then Michael had ever seen them. "I wanna ask Heather to marry me. And before you say I ain't good enough for her…" His voice grew quiet, "I love her, man."

Michael studied him for a moment and then, "Linc…I don't know what to say. I mean…" Michael pulled him in for a hug, words unable to convey the emotions expressed in this gesture between two friends. And then he was pulling away. "Come on, man, you need to pick out a ring."

Lincoln nodded, a grin replacing the seriousness reflected just a moment before. He pushed open the door to the jewelry shop, a gust of refrigerated air hitting them as their feet sank into the plush white carpeting. And then they were walking without a sound to the brightly lit cases, the shining diamonds blinding them in their brilliance.

"May I help you with something?" The salesman's eyes moved from Michael to Lincoln before coming back to rest on Michael.

"Um, no my friend here is looking for a ring, not me. I'm just along for the ride." This was spoken as his eyes moved along the treasures in the lighted case.

He tuned out the sounds of Lincoln and the salesman and moved to another case, figuring it wouldn't hurt to look. He was about to move on when it caught his eye; the perfect ring for Sara. It was a round cut with smaller baguettes on each side.

He took a deep breath as he stared at it. He could see it on her small finger. It was just the right size, not too big, not so small you couldn't see it.

He was still studying it when Lincoln tapped him on the shoulder. "Mike? I think I found it."

Michael's confused eyes met excited blue and then they cleared as he realized what Lincoln's words meant. "You found the ring?"

Linc grinned. "It's perfect, man. Come on I'll show it to you."

Michael moved to follow Lincoln as he turned and made his way back to the salesman. With only a quick glance behind him he joined the two at the counter. He looked at the princess cut stone and smiled. It was perfect for Heather. He could just imagine her face lighting up when Lincoln gave it to her. "It's great, man, she'll love it."

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely, this is the one." Michael said and then stepped off to the side so Lincoln could make credit arrangements.

Soon Michael was tuning them out again, his thoughts on another girl, another ring just waiting for their union.

(Sara)

(Saturday)

Sara scanned the crowd looking for them, the sound of Heather on her cell phone drifting into her ear. Heather had been trying to reach the guys and was now on her third voice mail. Their plane had arrived early and now here they were with no one to meet them, but the guys would be there any minute, she was sure of it, they weren't that early.

Sara was about to give up looking and drag her bags to a seat when she spotted spiky brown hair and then a shaved head that led to the bluest eyes she had ever seen.

"There they are"! She felt the smile spread across her face and dropped her bags. She saw Heather spring into action beside her and then she was pushing her way passed her fellow travelers to reach him.

She was almost there when he saw her. He smiled and then his long legs were moving bringing him closer. His arms met her body and she was wrapping around him, her arms, her legs, almost toppling them. She cupped his face, the feel of his freshly shaven checks soft under her hands as she brought his lips to hers. A kiss first, words later. She melted against him, her body like his second skin as he cradled her, his hands cupping her holding her up. She was totally oblivious to the people around them staring until the kiss ended and then she felt her cheeks flare.

He was grinning as he lowered her to the floor. "You miss me or something?" She matched his grin. "Or something." He laughed and pulled her close. "I missed you too."

She followed his eyes as they moved to Heather and Lincoln who were enjoying their own little moment and then Heather was in Michael's arms. "I missed you!" She reached and rubbed his head, her smile infectious as the four friends stood blocking traffic in the middle of the airport. Sara gave Lincoln a quick hug and then, "Hey, let's get out of here," Lincoln was already moving to gather the luggage the girls had discarded in their excitement.

Arms wrapped around their girls the guys led them out of the airport and into the California sun. 


	44. Chapter 44

(Sara) 

She let her hand fall beneath the table to clasp his fingers earning the beauty of his eyes on her glowing skin. She felt the blush in her cheeks deepen as he stroked her palm, his fingers on her skin bringing a small gasp to her lips that she bit back at the last second making him smile. He knew what he was doing to her with his Victorian hand porn. They had gone straight to dinner the four of them and this little touch was only one of many as the night traveled on, making her hot beneath her skin with every caress.

She moved her hand away lest they draw attention to themselves and wished she could stop time capturing it somehow. Somehow capture this feeling the four of them, her boyfriend and their two very best friends in the world had managed to snag by some luck unknown to her. How could this night be any more perfect?

Her question was answered when Lincoln cleared his throat. "Ahem!"

All eyes moved to his tanned face, his three day's growth of stubble shining as the candle light picked up the blonde hues in each follicle. "I have, um…There's something I wanted to say. I wanna make a toast. To all of us; to all that we've been through together and all that's yet to come." He raised his glass and they knocked their glasses together, a smile on each of their faces. "And um, one more thing…Um, Heather…" Lincoln got up from his chair and went down on his knee in front of her.

Heather's hand shot up to cover her mouth, her sudden tears shining in the candle glow. They all knew what was about to happen, and Sara had to wonder if Michael wasn't somehow in on this. One look at his face answered her question however; he looked as surprised as she felt.

"Heather, I wanted to ask you…I wanted to find a special time…way to ask you this…but the more I thought about it I couldn't think of a better time then now. Right here with our friends… Your brother…"

Heather was nodding, but for once she was totally quiet, her hand still covering her now smiling lips.

Sara held her breath as Lincoln reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue ring box. She felt tears fill her eyes as he continued.

"Heather will you…Will you marry me…Will you be my wife?"

Heather sat so still, her eyes alit with the unshed tears that suddenly brimmed and overflowed leaving her glowing cheeks streaked in their wake. And then she was nodding her head again, her dark hair hanging softly against her shoulders.

Sara couldn't remember ever having seen her friend look so radiant. She had to wonder how she herself would look if Michael were to ask her for her hand.

She felt an ache and realized she would give anything if this was their moment; hers and Michael's. If he were to ask her to marry him she would scream "Yes" at the top of her lungs or at least she would want to. But were they really ready for that? She let her eyes move to him and he smiled. She wondered what he was thinking just then, was it even something he would want, to spend the rest of his life next to her? To hold her as they both grew old? She brushed back the tears and smiled as Lincoln drew Heather into his arms.

She was happy for her friends, she was, and no matter what their future held Sara knew Michael loved her, and she hoped that someday they would have their moment...a moment in time that she could capture as she knew Heather would have done this night. A moment she would never forget...but would hold onto forever.

XXXXX

After a quick tour of the apartment Michael showed her to her room. He had told her a couple of days ago that Lincoln was finally moving out so she could have her own room if she wanted. She had agreed that it was probably a good idea, and it was if they were to take it slow, she knew there was no way she could handle sleeping in the same bed with Michael without something happening.

"So, um, this is it, your room." He set her bags down and turned to her, his lone silhouette like a shadow in his black clothing, with the bed just behind him.

She drew her eyes away and they landed at his feet, her luggage, bright red in the hopes that they would be easy to spot at the airport, and they had been, glared up at her like a blaring stop sign now, warning her of the dangers of having him so near. She knew if he were to stay much longer they would end up in bed, despite all of her good intentions. And if she were to be honest with herself she would have to admit it would be the perfect ending to what had been an amazing night. But before she could decide what she wanted he was moving.

He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the forehead and then he was backing away, his hands in his pockets. "I'll let you get settled in and um, I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

She nodded, but she was amazed at the ease with which he could just leave her there. Didn't he want her as much as she wanted him? The way he had touched her at the restaurant had conveyed as much.

"Michael?"

He turned to her, his back now facing the open doorway, a questioning look present in his blue eyes.

She hesitated for a beat and then unable to ask him to stay, though it was what she truly wanted, screw slow…she continued, "Um, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Sara." He said softly and closed the door behind him.

A moment later she was cursing herself. And then reminding herself that she had made her bed she might as well lie in it, she hefted the bag with her pajamas up onto the bed and silently got ready for bed.

(Michael)

He let out his breath in a huge gust and closed his eyes. He had done it, he had actually left her standing there looking so beautiful in her summer dress, so incredibly sexy she was all he could think of, all he could look at all night. And he hadn't been able to keep his hands off of her either, each little touch satisfying a need much like breathing and at the same time each tiny caress had left him feeling like he was drowning, like he could never get enough of her.

Still lost in his thoughts he moved down the hall to his own room. He would go inside and go to sleep. He would not think about her lying in bed in her thin night gown, nope he would just pretend it was still Lincoln sleeping down the hall. Yeah, right.

He pushed the bedroom door shut and locked it behind him as if he could lock away temptation as well. He moved through the room his fingers unbuttoning buttons, his shirt hitting the floor. He slid out of his pants and climbed into bed only his boxers between him and the coolness of the sheets, their soothing fibers relaxing him a little despite the heat of his skin.

He didn't expect to sleep much that night, too much had happened, too much excitement, Lincoln's surprise proposal having topped off the night.

And it had been a surprise the proposal, but it had also been what Michael needed to remind him he had to do this right, he couldn't rush things with Sara. He had watched his sister's face and wondered how Sara would look if he were to ask her to marry him; how she would react if he were to place the ring hidden in his dresser under countless pairs of boxers, on her finger?

He had left the jewelry store that day with a smiling Lincoln, only to rush back an hour later, a fear that the ring would be gone, already purchased by another young hopeful, that he would have lost his chance at the perfect ring, thus insuring he would somehow lose Sara. It was crazy he knew, but seeing it sitting there just as he had left it had reassured him things could work out. And having the ring somehow intensified that feeling making him believe that there was a chance he could convince her to stay at summer's end… to agree to be his wife someday.

He flipped onto his side and closed his eyes. He had to at least try to get some sleep. He had to go into the studio in the morning to do some replacement vocals. The recording was almost complete and a fall release was looking possible.

Still not comfortable he flipped onto his back and stared into the darkness for a beat.

Pushing his thoughts away he closed his eyes again and this time he was able to do what he had thought impossible, he drifted off to sleep. 


	45. Chapter 45

"Michael?" She tried the door, but the knob wouldn't budge.

He locked the door? Why would he lock the door? She pushed the hair out of her eyes, still wet from the shower, and knocked again. She remembered him saying something about needing to be at the studio that morning. And she had hoped to tag along. Had he left without telling her?

Her eyes fell to the door knob; it was the kind that locked from the inside, so he had to be in there, didn't he?

"Michael, the power is out, the electricity?" She was about to knock again when the door eased open, a bleary eyed Michael standing before her with a sheet tucked around his waist.

Her annoyance fled chased away by his smile. "Hey."

"Hey," she managed as her eyes drank him in thirstily. And then pulling herself from his gaze, "Um, didn't you have to be at the studio this morning?"

He glanced behind him. "Fuck, the alarm didn't go off! What time is it? Why is the clock not working?"

He let the sheet fall to the carpet and her eyes fell on his light blue boxers making her realize how much she missed waking up with him every morning.

She pulled her eyes up to her watch, "It's twenty after nine. When did you need to be there?"

He scraped a hand over his face, a look of annoyance at himself touching his sleepy features. "Shit! Nine, we were supposed to be there at nine." He moved to his cell phone and grabbed it up. "Great, I forgot to turn this back on after dinner. Two missed calls from Lincoln. Maybe Rick hasn't shown up yet."

"Who's Rick?"

He was talking mostly to himself and seemed surprised by her question. "Huh? Oh. He's um…Rick Carr, he's our new manager." He moved to the dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans.

"Oh, I didn't know. I mean I thought Jane was your manager?"

He was making his way to the closet now, "Nope, not anymore, now we have Rick."

Sara watched as he slid into the jeans and t-shirt. "I have to go…do you wanna come with?" And then it was as if he hit a roadblock on his super speed journey to get out the door.

He stopped suddenly and let his eyes caress her face. "Hey, come 'ere." He moved to her and gathering her into his arms he pulled her close.

"Yeah, I could come," she said in answer to his question, but really she wanted nothing more then to stay here in his arms, in the bed just behind them, locked in this room for days without interruption.

"The electricity is out," she said suddenly against his neck. "That's why your clock isn't working, no juice."

"No juice, huh? " This was said against the side of her face and then his kiss was grazing her temple. She could feel the smile on his lips soft against her skin.

A smile touched her lips. "Uh huh, I think we need to get the juice back on."

"I could turn the juice back on. I mean it might just be a fuse." He teased, his fingers tangling in her hair as he spoke, making her spine tingle.

"Uh huh, maybe."

Her fingers hooked in the pockets of his jeans and then she was pressing her body into him suggestively. She felt his breathing increase and the roughness of his unshaven cheek against her face as his lips moved to hers.

His lips had barely met hers, hot, sweet and demanding, when the phone in his pocket went off jarring them back to reality. He was late for the studio. He pulled away with a sigh.

A look of hot regret later he was digging for his phone. "I'm on my way Linc…. No the electricity's out here….I know we were supposed to meet Rick." A beat later, "Like I said we're on our way."

Sara could hear the annoyance slipping into his voice, and then he was flipping the phone closed. "We have to go. Rick's kinda pissed. This was ah, kinda our first meeting with him. We were supposed to meet him at the studio first thing."

"Oh, um, okay. Are you sure it's okay for me to be there? I mean I could just hang out here…maybe go to the store for some dinner supplies?"

"Nope, you're coming with me. I want you to see the studio and besides Heather's already there. You guys can hang out while we work."

A few minutes later they were leaving the apartment, hand in hand.

XXXXX

"This is my life; it's not what it was before. All these feelings I've shared. And these are my dreams, that I'd never lived before…Somebody shake me, 'cause I, I must be sleeping."

His eyes were on her, the glass seperating them thick, soundproofed, but nothing could deaden the intensity in his stare as he sang to her; for her, his words filling her eyes with tears and her heart with an ache she could never describe. This was his dream and she was here to witness it being born. Oblivious to those around her Sara swiped at her tears and smiled at him.

"Now that we're here…It's so far away…All the struggle we thought was in vain… All the mistakes, one life contained…They all finally start to go away."

Now that we're here it's so far away…And I feel like I can face the day…I can forgive and I'm not ashamed to be the person that I am today."

Sara felt the tears topple and spill down her cheeks. And then Heather's hand was in hers giving it a squeeze.

Sara looked to her friend's teary eyes and held on as the words washed over her. This was a new song, one she had never heard before, one he had penned while here in LA, no doubt. One that showed the change in him, in his life, and she would like to think she held a part in helping to make that change within him.

"These are my words…That I've never said before…I think I'm doing ok

And this is the smile…That I've never shown before…Somebody shake me  
Cause I, I must be sleeping…"

"Now that we're here…It's so far away…All the struggle we thought was in vain… All the mistakes, one life contained…They all finally start to go away."

His blue eyes were brighter with his own tears as he watched them through the glass, and then the last verse fell from his smiling lips…

"I'm so afraid of waking…Please don't shake me…Afraid of waking…Please don't shake me."

(Later)

Sara took a bite of muffin and grinned around it. She was awaiting his answer, a teasing gleam in her coppery eyes.

"Um, the door? Why'd I lock the door she asks…Welll…You see…" he was having a hard time with this and she found his fumbling of words to be adorable.

She chewed the muffin and picked a chunk off the top to feed him while he thought on it. She stepped closer and slipped the muffin bit between his lips, her finger stroking his bottom lip in passing. On contact the velvety softness of it sent her senses a jolt, waking her up more thoroughly then the two cups of coffee she had thus far consumed.

He grinned and then his eyes took on a gleam of their own. "Maybe I was afraid I would sleep walk. You know I have been known to climb unknowingly into bed with you."

His fingers moved to the leather band around her wrist and she smiled in remembrance of their first night in the same bed, waking up the next morning with his fingers on her bottom, his blue eyes clouded with sleep and amusement. She saw the amusement there now, but his eyes were different somehow, softer and more open then they were back then.

Needing to be closer, to get her hands on more then a muffin, Sara tossed the remains of her breakfast into the open bag and moved closer, her hips touching his, as his arms found their way around her, closing the gap between their bodies.

His lips came next, a crashing taste of blueberries. Sara closed her eyes as his tongue caressed her lips asking for entry and then the full taste of him filled her, sweeping though her, taking her breath. She had missed this so much, the all consuming need that was Michael. She slid her hands along his neck and down his body until they were moving under his t-shirt, his skin hot beneath her fingertips.

"Ahemmm!" The noise broke through and she jumped away just as Michael's hands fell from her body.

"Michael, I'm guessing?" The man in front of them was older, but not old, in his forties if Sara had to guess.

Michael's hand shot out. "Yeah, you must be Rick, um Mr. Carr?"

"The man smiled erasing years from his face. "Rick, please. "

Michael smiled back, "I'm sorry about this morning Rick, our electricity is out, so we kind of overslept."

Rick's eyes moved to Sara and Michael introduced them. He took her hand and made pleasantries, but then he was all business again. "I'm setting up a small tour for Torn after the CD hits the shelves. I spoke with Lincoln about it this morning."

"I haven't seen Linc, he's off laying drum tracks."

Rick nodded. "Yes, I know. So how does a fall tour sound to you?"

Michael was quiet for a beat and then, "It um, it sounds great, Rick."

Sara was looking down at her feet but looked up at the beeping of Rick Carr's cell phone. "I have to take this." His hand shot out. "I look forward to working with you, Michael."

Michael nodded and clasped his hand in a firm handshake.

As Rick pushed through the door, Michael's eyes moved to Sara's face. "He said a small tour. We won't be gone long."

She nodded. "I know and its in the fall so who knows where I'll be, right?"

"Yeah, right. Come on let's go find Linc and Heather."

Missing the disappointment in his voice, Sara shifted her gaze to the bag holding her breakfast, but her appetite was gone.

(Later that night)

The still apartment awaited them.

As Michael had suspected from the dark stop lights in the area the power was still out. The apartment was pitch black and sweltering after having been shut up all day with no working AC.

They stood quietly in the hall letting their eyes adjust to the darkness, the only sound in the dead silence that of their breathing.

"You stay here and I'll hunt down some candles. There's no reason we should both risk our shins."

"Okay," this one word was spoken softly beside him and then he was moving through the room like a blind man.

He moved to open the blinds but the endeavor didn't offer much light, the night outside the windows was dark what with so many street lights being out of commission.

He stepped away and headed for the kitchen to grab the emergency candles he kept for just such an occasion. A few beats later the warm glow of candle light filled the room around him.

He grabbed a small plate and dripped enough wax onto it to hold the large candle in place and then moved back to the living room. Sara was just as he had left her, but as the glow lit the living room she moved to the sofa and sat down.

He studied her quietly for a moment and then, "There are a few more candles. I should probably go grab them and set them out so we can make our way around the apartment."

"Um, okay. Do you want some help?" She pushed the hair from her eyes and stood to follow him.

"Yeah, sure, I think I have some more in the bedroom if the ones in the kitchen aren't enough."

She nodded and followed him silently to the kitchen. She had bluffed her way through dinner and later at the club they had gone to with Heather and Lincoln. But as the night ebbed on she had grown quieter; as it fully hit her how little time she and Michael really had together. The summer would be over before they knew it and he would be leaving her…again.

She knew she had no right to feel the way she did, not really, not when she may not even be in California herself, come fall, but the idea of being apart caused an ache in her very being, leaving her almost ill.

She was opening her mouth to speak, to tell him a little of what she was feeling when he spoke up beside her. "It's pretty hot in here, maybe we should open a few windows, what do you think?"

"Yeah, we should." She could feel the sweat at her temple trail down the side of her face and swiped at it. He was right, it was too hot.

She watched him move to the one window in the kitchen and push it open. But the still night air offered little in the way of relief.

"I think I'm gonna take a quick shower. I'm feeling kinda grubby...It might cool me off a little."

She lit a candle and turned to face him. "Okay, yeah, I think I'd like to change into something a little cooler myself. Why don't you go on and I'll finish up with the candles...and I'll take care of the windows too."

She felt his inquiring eyes for a beat and then he was nodding. "Yeah, okay. I'll only be a few minutes. And then I'll find us something cold to drink."

"Sounds good."

He hesitated for a moment, and then grabbed two of the candles. She watched his long shadow dance along the walls as he moved from the room, and then grabbing the other candles she made her way around the apartment leaving a lit path in her wake.

XXXXX

He stepped from the shower onto the cool tiles and grabbed a towel. Drying quickly he tucked it around his waist and pulled open the bathroom door to let some of the steam out.

He had a feeling he would be sweaty again within minutes and the small amount of moisture building in the flume above his upper lip lent evidence to this. He grabbed the candle and stepped out of the bathroom, his wet feet leaving tracks on the carpet as he made his way to his bedroom.

He stopped outside the door, the glow leaking from beneath giving him warrant to pause as the still air, though cooler then that of the steamy bathroom held a different kind of, almost tangible heat.

He listened to the silence for a beat, and then pushed open the door and stepped inside closing the door behind him. The sight of her on his bed when he turned around stopped him dead in his tracks. She was wearing one of his wife beaters and a pair of lace panties.

The candle glow lent heat to her eyes making him instantly hard as they delved into him.

"I hope its okay that I borrowed this?" She said and pulled the clingy material away from her body.

Even in the dim glow cast by the candles placed throughout the room he could see that she was bare beneath. A slow grin spread across his face. "Yeah it's fine. I wasn't wearing it."

She smiled and moved to her knees. The middle of the bed had never looked more inviting to him then it did at that moment. He moved closer taking in more of her sweat glistening skin with each blink of his darkening eyes.

He had spent the entire time in the shower thinking she would want to talk, that it would be a good time to talk about their future and where they stood with each other, but the sight of her there before him was quickly wiping out all of his good intentions replacing them with the hunger he always felt in her presence.

He set the candle aside and closed the short distance between them to sink down next to her on the bed. He felt her eyes move over him, like burning embers and then she reached out a fingertip to run along the side of his face.

"Sara, about this fall…" He tried with his last bit of restraint, but she cut him off, her finger landing gently against his lips. "Shhh…Not tonight Michael, tonight I just…I just want you to make love to me."

And then she was climbing on top of him, her hands pushing away the towel, the moist fabric replaced by the hot skin of her thighs as she cupped his face. Her lips were soft at first, but the kiss grew more heated, urgent as their hands moved over greedy flesh aching to be touched, hungry to be fed.

He felt her moan as his lips moved over the moisture of her neck, sucking the sweet, salty balm as his tongue made lazy circles on her skin. She pulled his mouth up and delved into him, her breath racing against his, her tongue in his mouth, her hands on his body sending jolts of pleasure through him.

"Now, Michael she said, her voice encased in a need that pushed him a little closer.

"No, not yet." He voiced back as his fingers moved along the hem of her shirt to rake it up and over her aroused flesh. "Not yet."

He wasn't ready to enter her just yet; he wasn't ready to be that much closer to this being over, to having their body's part. It had been so long since they were together like this, and he wanted to take his time, to make it last.

He pulled her up and his mouth hot with need fell to first one nipple and then the next, the buds pink like roses as he flicked them with his tongue, teased them with his teeth.

He enjoyed the increase in her breathing as his fingers moved teasingly over the wetness of her panties, pressing into her to earn a gasp.

And then he was sucking air in through his teeth as her fingers closed around his shaft. She stroked him lightly at first and then tightened her grip. His stomach swam and he felt his breath hitch in his throat at her ministrations.

Her lips found his snatching his breath away. "Now, Michael," she said, this time insistantly against his lips.

She eased away to pull off her panties and he used this opportunity to move them to the head of the bed. He leaned his back against the head board, his body thrumming.

She stared at him for a moment and then she was moving between his legs, a light kiss on his thigh sending a shiver of pleasure through him. She stopped to run her tongue along the length of him and he reached and pulled her up, stopping her.

There was no way he could last. If she were to take him into her mouth he knew it would be over, for him anyways.

He ignored her questioning look and swiped it away with a kiss. And then she was pulling back to run her tongue along his body, her saliva mixing with the sweat from the heat between them.

She circled his nipples with her tongue repaying past favors and then she was climbing onto him, her body moist as their sweat ran together.

He trailed his tongue along her neck drinking her in as she sank down onto him easing him inside her, the hotness of her all consuming. He stroked her body lightly, long fingers moving over tender flesh as each breath ached out of him with her movements.

He planted his hands firmly on her thighs to slow her down. "Slow down, Sara, slow down." He could barely speak through his aroused state, but she heard him and slowed her pace.

She began to move slowly, seductively, with a twist of her hips, each thrust sending swirls of heat through his body. He stopped her movements and pulled her close, holding her to him as he cupped her face. "I love you, Sara...I don't want to leave you."

She met his eyes in the candle glow. "I never want to leave you Michael. I wanna stay like this. I want it to be like this… Always."

He kissed her then as his hands moved from her face and down her arms to cradle her hips, her ass. She raised up then and a gasp fell from her lips. He could tell she was close, her thighs a quiver against him.

He put a hand up to stroke her face, to make her look at him. "I wanna see you."

She met his eyes again and the darkness in spun copper grew deeper. And then her mouth was opening to the escaping of gasps and moans as her muscles contracted pushing him past the point of no return. He followed her by mere seconds, his head thrown back, his notrils flaring as he gasped her name, each pulsating beat of his heart one of pleasure as his orgasm tore through him filling her. Never once did he let her go as the sweat rolled off them, as their bodies began to cool a little, as the flickering glow of candles pressed against the darkness.

XXXXX

She let the softness of her hair lay against his back, her body still melded to his, still holding him as if this were their last chance, when really the summer had only just begun.  
She pulled back a little and kissed his smiling lips.

She was still glowing, her body thrumming from their love making. She was reluctant to move, wanting to keep him inside of her, but the heat was winning out. She would have to move soon in order to cool off, and that cold drink he had promised her earlier was starting to sound really good.  
"That was amazing, Michael," she leaned in for one last kiss, his mouth soft and his eyes serious as she pulled away.

"Your amazing, Sara."

She grinned at this and kissed his nose. He smiled but his eyes still held a seriousness that made her look at him. "What?"

He reached and ran his fingers through her hair, pushing it aside. "I wanna ask you something. And you don't have to say yes right now, just say that you'll think about it."

She nodded, "Okay."

He leaned his head back for a moment, his eyes going closed as if preparing for something and she had to admit he was making her nervous. What was he having such a hard time with?

She was opening her mouth to voice her question when his eyes opened and he lowered his head level with hers. His eyes met hers and the words from his mouth surprised her into silence. "Sara will you marry me...someday...I just need to know that this is going to happen for us...that someday you'll be my wife."

She felt her eyes fill and a bubble filled her chest, one of joy that he would ask her, that he would want this. She felt the tears tip and cascade past her lashes to move along her flushed cheeks, and then she was smiling. "Yes, Michael...Yes I will marry you...I would marry you tonight, tomorrow...I'll marry you."

She saw a look of relief mixed with gratitude and happiness fill his eyes and then he was pulling her closer, his arms holding her tight.

She squeezed her eyes closed then, letting herself go, knowing that no matter what happened they would make this work. Somehow they would make it, together their love would show them the way. 

(Chapter End Notes:) 

I will be writing an epilogue to tie things up, but this is the last chapter. I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing this story. I will be really sad when the epilogue is finished and posted. Thank you for sticking with me on this and remember to keep an eye out for the epilogue! 8) 


	46. Chapter 46

(Author's Chapter Notes: Here it is everyone, the epilogue. I hope it ties things up for Michael and Sara. For everyone actually. LOL I tried! Anyways, I wanted to thank everyone for reading. You all left so many great comments thoughtout and I can't thank you enough for the constant encouragement.) 

(The following summer)

The light hit the leaves overhead, the canopy of elms and oak trees alight with the fire of the sun as the soft breeze played with the tiny wisps of hair escaping from her updo of auburn curls. The jewels adorning her tresses were no rival for the coppery light shining within Sara's eyes however as they moved over the park taking in the guests as they filed to their seats.

The park was alive with the song of birds; aglow with the summer sun. Everything was more then perfect, it was ideal. The park that was Michael and Heather's childhood haven had been a project Michael and Lincoln had overseen. Well funded anyways, they were much too busy these days to be directly involved with such a project, what with the success of their first CD and the hectic schedule of their follow up recording for their next endeavor. But the two of them had made it happen. And one look at Heather's beaming face made it all worth it.

Sara had to admit it was beautiful and she could think of no better place to pledge her love to the man she intended to spend the rest of her life with. A place of past memories now filled with new ones in the making. And of course now that the park was free of derelicts and neglect it could be enjoyed by the children in the neighborhood. After today that is.

She smiled at the thought, her eyes seeking out the other man in her life. Her gaze moved along the rows of white and pink roses, the aisle of rose petals the wind was kind enough to leave untouched leading to the gazebo adorned with ivy and of course more roses.

She found her father standing off to the side amongst the other guests. He would be walking her down that very isle shortly, but right now he was holding the hand of the woman at his side. Sara caught the pair's eye and smiled at the new woman in her father's life. She was happy for him. Just when she had thought he would be alone forever, and he had admitted to believing as much himself, he had met Olivia. And Sara had to admit that Olivia was perfect for her father in every way. They shared many things in common, both having lost their spouses long ago, but only recently finding the ability within themselves to move on. Sara was sure there were many surprises and happy discoveries awaiting them. She knew one thing for sure; she had never seen her father as happy as he seemed to be these days.

As she watched the happy duo Michael and Heather's parents moved up beside them. Sara watched as Frank clasped hands with her soon to be in-laws before turning to introduce them to Olivia. Sara couldn't hear what was being said but she could tell by the smiling faces that it was going well. The fact that the Scofields were here was something she was thankful for, for Heather yes, but mostly for Michael. He and his parents were working things out, and while things weren't perfect, they were getting better.

And then she heard the cue, the music beginning to flow from the lone harp the foursome had selected to accompany them down the isle. Sara glanced to Heather and reached out her hand for a quick squeeze. Her friend looked beautiful in the white lace dress she had chosen, her dark hair flowing freely, with tiny pink roses interwoven throughout. Sara smiled and Heather's smiling eyes reflected back the happiness of this day as she returned her squeeze. She knew Heather was happy, that things had never been better in her best friend's life.

Sara took a deep breath to calm her nerves and glanced down at her own dress, the white silk fitting her curves like it was made for her, and it had been. The dress had cost far more then she would have ever thought she could afford. But Michael had insisted, just as he had insisted on paying her way through Medical school. Sara had been turned down for the scholarship she had applied for in California, her only choice to foot the bill or head back to Chicago where she had been accepted on full scholarship. She had accepted Michael's offer with no regrets.

She felt her eyes fill with tears as the last year of their life together moved through her thoughts. It had been hectic and the tour had lasted longer then expected. At times she had missed Michael more then a drowning man missed air, but in the end he had come home to her. He had come home with champagne and roses. He had come home early to surprise her.

And he had been a surprise too. But then he always was a surprise. He had been a surprise from the moment she met him, and she knew he would continue to forever surprise her.

She felt her father in step beside her and slip his arm through hers. She looked up at him through brimming eyes, fighting hard to contain her tears. She wouldn't cry and mess up her makeup, she could do this. She felt a lone tear slip along her cheek and laughed, thinking so much for her makeup. She gently brushed it aside and looked along the trail of roses, her eyes falling on Michael. He was waiting for her. He looked so handsome in his tux standing next to Lincoln. They both looked amazing. She met Michael's eyes, as she took the first step. And then she was heading towards her future, their future, and it had never looked brighter.

(5 years later)

"Push Sara, you can do it, baby."

Her coppery eyes were filled with tears and pain. "I hate you, Michael…I do."

"That's okay because I love you enough for both of us. Now push." He said as he gripped her hand.

She squeezed it tightly not noticing him wince as another contraction crested and then she was pushing, pushing like her very life depended on it, and it felt as if it did. If she had to endure one more contraction she was sure she was going to die.

She felt the pain move through her and then the room was filled with the first notes from their son's strong lungs. The nurse placed the baby in her arms, so new, so beautiful with its dark curls. Sara felt her eyes swell with tears at the sight of him. He looked so much like Michael.

"He's a singer just like his daddy," she said softly looking up into Michael's smiling face.

"He is. And he's got his mommy's chin." Michael reached out to stroke his son's face.

Sara watched him for a moment until she caught his eye. "I didn't mean what I said you know, about hating you."

He laughed. "I know. And I know those drugs are making you a little wonky right now...so."

She shook her head. "Well, maybe a little, but not really…" After a beat, "I love you, Michael. I love this…Our son…our family…Thank you for this."

He shook his head and bent to kiss her gently before pulling away. "No, Sara, thank you. Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for standing beside me; for making me want to be a better person. Thank you for giving me so much…"

She reached and brushed the tears from his cheeks then and smiled.

A moment later her lips found his as their sleeping son rested between them.

(The End) 

(Chapter End Notes: 

I'm sad this story has ended guys! I had such a blast writing it. Thanks again to all who read and/or reviewed! 8) 


	47. Chapter 47

(This is just a short story. A small visit with Hot Rocker Mike and his Sara. Or Epilogue 2)

"Wait right here and I'll go get it!" She grinned at him from the doorway and then ducked out, her auburn tresses sliding from his view. She quickly pulled open the closet door and pulled the large box out from its hiding place. She had stressed out about him finding it for the last two days, but not as much as she'd worried that his Birthday present might not be ready on time.

Her smile grew as she lugged the large box through the bedroom door. It was perfect, the perfect gift and she couldn't wait to see the smile on his face when he opened it.

"Here it is, open it!" Her voice was anxious as she hopped onto the bed beside him, jostling his sheet clad body. He laughed, a deep sound in his throat that never failed to make her smile if not join in. "Come on, I'm dying to see what you think, to see if you like it."

His long fingers moved over her wrapping efforts, smoothing out the wrinkles. He studied the package as if he could see through the shoddy wrapping job and into the box to his gift and then his blue eyes came up to meet hers, the same blue eyes she had looked into lovingly for the last six years. "I'll love it Sara, whatever it is, I'm sure I'll love it."

She grinned, her eyes alight, "Prove it." She remembered saying these same two words to him once, long ago, only to be followed by his lips crashing down on hers, in their first kiss. "Open it!" She urged before she could be further distracted, further enticed by the allure of his lips.

He laughed again and tore into the paper, pulling it away to reveal the brown, flat box held closed with clear packaging tape. He looked at it for a beat and then pulled at the tape, ripping it way.

Pausing again he turned to look at her, into the excitement reflected in her coppery eyes. She was bouncing up and down like a school girl and he couldn't help but think how cute she looked all flushed and happy like that. He knew whatever was in the box she had taken great pains with it and he had no intention of letting her down. He would pretend it was amazing even if it was the worst gift imaginable.

He smiled into her eyes and then looked down at the box. A beat later he was flipping up the top, his eyes moving over the deep wood, the strings, the beautiful body of the instrument nestled inside the box. "It's amazing." His words were filled with awe as his eyes came up to meet the warmth in her eyes, a worthy rival for the burnished wood he held in his hands.

He ran a finger along the strings, his eyes drawn back to the design on the fret board. He hadn't seen one like it since…His eyes shot back up to her grinning face. "What did you do?"

"Do you like it?"

He was speechless for a moment and then lifted it from the box. "It's…Wow…I mean…how did? I mean is it what I think it is?"

She was nodding and bouncing again. "Yep, it is…well some of it is…I mean what was salvageable anyways, pretty much just the neck and the fret board. So you like it?"

He gave her a look of incredulity. "I love it…but how?"

"Do you remember the box Heather sent over about a month ago?"

"Ah, no?"

She swatted at him playfully. "Well it was in there, that and some old Guitar world magazines. And then it was just the matter of finding someone who was willing to try to fix it."

His fingers were stroking over the strings lovingly. "It's great, Sara, but you didn't have to do this…I mean…" His voice was thick with emotion.

She reached and ran her slim fingers along the deep wood, her eyes never leaving his. "I figured it was the least I could do since I'm the one who busted it."

He grinned, "True, but you had every right to have busted it over my head."

Her laughter filled the room, a sweet music he wished he could recreate, but nothing his fingers had ever plucked from a guitar could even compare and he knew it.

Her eyes were still dancing, but the laughter had left her voice, "I like your head too much to do that." She leaned and kissed him gently to prove it.

He felt her tongue against his lips and welcomed it inside, feeling the warmth spread through him from her caress. He forced himself away his eyes delving into hers. He just had one more thing to say. "Thank you, Sara. This is the second best gift you've ever given me."

"Just second best, huh?" Her eyes were dark with arousal.

"Uh, huh, now come 'ere so I can thank you properly before the very best thing you've ever given me wakes up for his morning bottle.

Sara giggled and let him pull her into his arms; thinking, now this is the kind of thank you a girl could get used to real quick.

Return to Top 


	48. Chapter 48

(Another glimpse into Mike and his Sara's life post RMN.Or epiloguee 3 )

"I'm surprised you didn't win for scariest costume." At his raised eyebrows she continued, a teasing note slipping into her voice. "You were more frightening then Linc's Wolfman costume, and almost as hairy." Slim fingers moved over the pelt of fake chest hair she had helped Michael apply earlier that evening with two sided tape. She thought seriously about ripping it off, but settled for petting it like a favored pet instead.

A soft chuckle snuck around the large, fake teeth of Michael's Austin Power's possessed mouth and a twinkle lit his blue eyes. "Yeah, well look who's talking Foxy Cleopatra." He reached and pulled the afro wig from her head, at the same time slapping her lightly on the ass.

Scuttling away with a grin on her face, Sara sat down at the vanity table in their bedroom. A moment later her fingers were busy working their way through her glossy tresses, attempting to smooth it out. She had discovered that four hours in a hot wig made for hair worthy of the bride of Dracula.

She was about to reach for a hair brush when the mirror reflected Michael, his own dark wig now discarded. He was moving up behind her. "Here, let me do that." His fingers were in her hair then and she let her body relax against the chair back, his efforts more of a massage against her scalp sending shivers through her.

"Ahhh…that feels so good." She closed her eyes letting herself fall under his spell, his fingers always finding just the right spots to make her swoon.

She was suddenly glad their little boy was off with his Aunt and Uncle for the night. Heather had insisted she and Lincoln could pick the baby up from the sitter on their way home from the party and as Michael's lips moved along her neck Sara realized she owed her sister in-law a huge favor for granting them this alone time.

"Mm…" She practically purred as his long fingers moved around her and grabbed the brush. He stroked it through her hair leaving her a puddle on the chair. God, this was so good! She was so glad he had gotten home on time to join her at the Halloween party thrown by the Osborne's. And it had been quite the party too.

All thoughts of the Host and Hostess's crazy, festive antics fled her mind however; as the brush hit the cluttered table. Long fingers then traveled along her Gold lame suit to find the zipper. An intake of breath later, eyes still closed, she felt a small smile play across her features.

The sound of the zipper easing down hit the quiet room then and she laughed softly, her once relaxed body now thrumming with anticipation. His hands trailed lightly over her cleavage and then his fingers were rubbing along the thin material of her black push up bra making her gasp.

Reaching behind her she moved to help, her fingers unfastening the clasp, allowing the cool air to caress her. Seconds later he was cupping her warm flesh in his splayed fingers, this simple touch lighting her senses and taking her breath.

She leaned into his hands then as he stroked outward, the rough pad of each middle finger moving expertly over her alert nipples making them ache for his lips. Her head was thrown back against him and she could feel the taught, hardness of his rocker body beneath her head.

Envisioning what lay beneath, she turned her body, her mind wicked and her mouth able as she pushed up his shirt to trail her tongue along his navel. God, he tasted so good! She had missed this so much, had missed him while he was on tour.

A low moan left his full lips, filling the air as she sucked along the dark tattoos to the small line of hair above his low cut pants. The sound of a zip later her mouth was moving lower, luxuriating in the way his flat stomach rose and fell faster in his excitement. Her own senses were on fire, the wetness between her thighs growing with each breath against his hot skin. She left a trail of kisses along his hardness as her fingers stroked his thighs…

She was taking him deep, his knuckles white along the hard chair back when her other hand moved up his chest. A sharp hiss left his lips as she ripped the pelt of hair off his chest and then he was pulling her up.

Fingers found flesh then, lips crashed onto lips, his tongue moving, exploring her mouth as his hands freed her from the rest of her costume. When the full light of the room had welcomed her nakedness, he hoisted her up, her long legs fitting with ease around his slender torso.

He moved them to the bed and eased her down onto the mattress, his actions gentle but playful echoing the need in his eyes, the heat of his skin.

Once she was safely resting amongst the pillows he stripped off the rest of his costume and fell between her thighs, his eyes a shade of blue she knew only to well.

"I missed you, Sara. Let me show you how much I missed you."

She was about to respond, the word okay just a breath from her lips when his hot mouth landed just above her pubic line, sucking the word and all of its meaning from her head.

Lips she had missed, the heat of his mouth she had craved left deep kisses along her body to her inner thigh. Hot breath moved along her teasingly and then she was gasping, her hips moving beneath him, as each stroke of his tongue left her closer.

"God, Michael, I missed you too," she managed and then she was pulling him up, her hot eyes demanding.

Reading her so well, he eased between her thighs, the tip of him brushing her tender clitoris making her jump.

Refusing to give her what she wanted, not just yet anyways, he leaned and teased a nipple into his mouth, his tongue so hot, so wet leaving her dripping.

He eased back and slid his fingers inside her, his expert ministrations causing her to buck against his palm.

Long fingers played over her then, the wet tips trailing her body making her shiver in their wake, leaving her aching for more.

And then he was inside of her, the heat of her wrapping around him, followed by the smooth skin of her legs as she pulled him as close as she could. His hot chest was pounding against hers, their hearts a body of one as they moved together, slowly at first, but their pace growing faster as their bodies demanded speed, friction, harder thrusts...more.

Sara felt the heat in her belly growing and then she was tipping, the moans and gasps leaving her lips to echo along the high ceilings.

Breath seething out of her she reached for him, cupping his ass in her hands. She wanted to touch him, feel every inch of him under her fingers as she guided him into her.

His breath was faster now, the sweat along his chest gleaming, the ink looking wet as he moved inside of her, as she took him closer, the urging of her hands heightening his senses.

His eyes were open drinking her in, the thirst in his deep blue orbs an almost tangible thing, as if he couldn't get enough of the sight of her beneath him.

And then he was coming. She pulled him in close, her lips eating his moans, her tongue sliding in to taste him as his movements slowed.

He grinned down at her as she met his eyes, the lust sill heavy within.

"That was shaggadelic, Baby!"

Sara couldn't help but giggle when he smiled. It was only now that she noticed the large teeth from his costume were still in his mouth.


	49. Chapter 49

(A Christmas story with Rock me now Michael, Sara and their 2 yr. old son Mikey.)

"Mikey, hey, don't touch that. Your mommy and I spent all afternoon decorating that beast and if you pull all of the ornaments off again…" Sighing softly Michael jumped up to remove the colorful glass balls from his two year old son's fingers.

Placing them both back onto the tree, Michael then scooped up his son and spun him around making air plane noises. "Let's fly to see Mommy, ok?" His answer was a resounding giggle that went well with the huge grin now plastered across Michael's face.

Shooting passed the miniature drum set he had been assembling before his son went tree terrorist on him, Michael flew to the stairs. Sara was upstairs resting.

He knew she needed her rest, she was always tired in her second trimester; she had been the same when carrying Mikey. But she had been asleep for well over two hours and it was time to wake Mommy up.

The zooming noises echoed throughout the halls on the second floor with a giggling back up as dark curls bounced and blue eyes sparkled. Mikey loved to fly even more then he loved to bang on things. Michael figured his son would grow up to be either a pilot or maybe a drummer in a rock band like his favorite Uncle Linc.

Stopping short just in front of the closed bedroom door, Michael looked up at his son and raised a finger to his lips, "Shhh, let's surprise Mommy, okay?"

Mikey giggled and made a zooming noise of his own, making his father laugh.

"Shhh…" But he knew it was hopeless Sara would be awake as soon as he opened the door. Placing his hand on the knob Michael turned it and pushed the door open.

"Mommy!" Mikey squealed as soon as he saw Sara stretched out on the bed.

Flying for the bed Michael began making landing noises, right before he reached it, however; he veered away. "Mayday, mayday, come in! I think we're gonna crash! I can't control the plane!" Michael flew their son around the bedroom haphazardly as Sara sat up giggling.

She watched her two favorite boys as they zoomed around the large bedroom giggling and sputtering as the 'plane' went down. "Kaboom!" A giggling, bundle joined her on the bed and she reached for her son, hugging him.

"Mommy, Mikey down!" Sara giggled and met Michael's eyes over the top of the springy dark curls her fingers couldn't resist. Her hand drifted up there now winding through them. "I see that sweetie, you crashed!"

"Kaboom!" Mikey threw up his hands, his blue eyes alight.

The three of them were giggling as Michael pulled his family in for a hug, capturing them both.

Suddenly there was a loud crunching noise.

"Uh, oh." Sara and Michael exchanged a look. "Uh, oh" was Mikey's favorite thing to say when he did something he knew he shouldn't have done.

Sara eased her child away from her and the sparkly fragments of crushed Christmas tree ornament fell from the leg pocket of his cargo pants. Her eyes moved to Michael who just grinned and shrugged. "Don't look at me I have no idea how that got it in there."

"Uh huh, I'm sure you don't," But her eyes sparkled. "I think this is a job for" and Sara lowered her voice to barely above a whisper as her eyes met those of her son, "The Magic dust buster!"

Mikey squealed in excitement, "Yay!" One of his favorite things in the world was the magic dust buster. He was bouncing around in his excitement now, the sparkly glass having fallen completely free of his pocket.

Sara was careful to keep his hands out of the mess as Michael hopped up to go get the magic. He was back in a flash and then their son was wielding his favorite 'toy'.

"Ready…Get set…Blast off!" Sara shouted loudly and then the sound of the vacuum filled the air drowning out their son's giggles.

Her eyes met Michael's and then he was leaning in, a small kiss making this memory all the more sweet. 


	50. Chapter 50

Michael pulled his Ferrari Tesstarosa into the Toys R' us parking lot and jumped out, his long legs moving him quickly into the store, the automatic doors having slid silently open as he approached.

He was hoping to find a toy he had seen advertise while giving into one of his few remaining guilty pleasures earlier that morning; watching Sponge Bob Square Pants, alone.

His heart and head was now set on one of the newest, hard to come by action figures on the market, over three feet tall and fully loaded, Ironman; the red and gold superhero/genius.

Mikey was going to love it.

Michael smiled as he thought of his son opening the gift three days from now. It was Mikey's fifth Birthday and all he could talk about these days was Ironman. Michael had even added the old Black Sabbath tune to the song list for Torn's next gig, a guest appearance at the Rainbow bar and grill. Not that Mikey would be there to hear his old man's attempts at the classic, but still…

Pulling the ski hat down a little further, lest he be recognized, Michael moved through the store, a man on a mission, not stopping until he hit the aisle where the Ironman selection rested next to Spiderman in all his web spinning glory. "But Spiderman is so last year," as Mikey would say, as he had said the last time Spidey was mentioned.

Behind his dark shades, another part of his disguise, hidden blue orbs moved like a heat seeking missile, or in this case an Ironman seeking missile as Michael scanned the shelves. There it was, and by the looks of things, there was only the one left.

As Michael searched he had pictured himself pulling an Arnie. Arnold Swarzenegger in Jingle all the way to be exact. The extremes one man would go through to procure the one thing his son wanted most for Christmas was now understandable to Michael, who would move heaven and earth for his son, or at least do his damnedest if his son were to ask him.

Sara had suggested he wait and she would run by later that day to pick up the toy, but Michael had insisted he could stop in real quick and grab it on his way to the studio.

Pulling the large box down from the shelf, Michael made his way towards the checkout. So far so good, no one had recognized him.

"Michael Scofield? Oh my God, Stacy, look, it's Michael from Torn!"

Shit, busted! Turning around, Michael smiled.

"Hey, girls," he was fighting the urge to look around.

The store was fairly crowded and the last thing he needed was to be recognized by a crowd today. He needed to be at the studio in less then an hour.

The two teens, eyes wide, were now staring at him as if _he_ were Ironman. One of them blinked and then, "Michael, I love you sooo much! You have to sign my Torn CD!" Her friend elbowed her none to gently, "I mean would you please sign it? Please!?

"Yeah sure, yeah, listen, but can the two of you do me a favor first?" When they nodded he continued, "I need to get out of here. I just stopped in real quick to buy this for my son? It's for his Birthday…" The sound of them awwing could be heard somewhere in Ohio to be sure, and he winced. "So, I tell you what, just let me pay for this real quick and then I'll sign anything you want." Michael wanted to kick himself as the blonde grinned, "Within reason." Her smile fell, but the excitement was still in her eyes as he told them to meet him in the parking lot in ten minutes.

A few minutes later he was through the checked out, his purchase tucked safely under his arm as he made his way to the parking lot to make good on his promise.

When he saw that the two girls had somehow become at least twenty in the few minutes he had been at the checkout, Michael shook his head and reminded himself that this was what he had wanted, fame.

He smiled as he thought about Sara and how she would tease him later when he told her about his 'quick trip' to Toys R' Us.

(Chapter End Notes)

I must confess, I wrote this chapter only because of this great picture of Went I saw where he was out shopping at Toys R' Us. I thought, what better way to account for a ski hat and sunglasses in a fic then to make it a disguise for Rock me now Michael? Oh, and I saw Ironman last weekend. Great flick!


End file.
